Mr Beckett
by Apple Senorita
Summary: Alex's new mission is not a simple one; but MI6 promise it will answer questions about his family. However, with the added danger of a new partner spy, Alex's already mixed emotions are sent into turmoil. Can he come out unscathed? Alex/OC slash
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. This will be a SLASH Alex Rider fanfic so if you dont like then please dont read and go to whine and moan about it.

Summary sounds awful but give it a go.

Time setting: a little odd, sorry. It's basically a year or so after Eagle Strike, so he's 15, and Scorpia, Ark Angel etc have no yet happened. Any problems, feel free to yell at me that Im doing it wrong.

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**Prologue**

The University Medical Hospital for central Moscow dealt with hundreds of patients every day. The ER saw the Moscow public pour in every hour with broken bones, fractured skulls, accident at home or at work, or injuries acquired at home or work which certainly weren't accidents. There were car crash victims, young girls with their futures ahead of them who have OD'd over a broken heart, elderly couples who had saved up enough money together to get the bus to the hospital for their medication. There were certainly sad cases. Some, however, took your breath away. They were a violent punch to the solar plexus. Unfortunately, in such a critical situation, the last thing a doctor or nurse wants to do is be knocked out by them. Some nights changed their lives forever.

Tonight was one of those nights. Outside the sliding glass doors, the rain pattered against the streets of Moscow lightly. The night sky was teased with rainclouds, the moon half hidden. There were two nurses behind the desk that night, handling new admissions. They moved swiftly and efficiently in the silence, the only noise to break it being the mutterings of waiting patients and the purr of the air conditioner. Nurse Katya Ivanov was in her last hour of her shift and was imaging what to have for dinner as she sliced clipboards into their appropriate positions.

The two nurses heard the whisper of the doors opening before any of the other patients registered it. The sight took a moment to sink in. The man was in his late twenties, not that it was too easy to tell. The right side of his face was covered in the dark thickness of blood. It was in his eyes, trickling down his nose, but it didn't deter him. His clothes hung heavy on his solid frame, gushes of water streaming from the seams joining the puddles forming at his feet. He was carrying a boy in his arms. He could have only been fourteen or fifteen, with the same red covering his abdomen and torso. His arms hung down, his head rolled back and eyes closed. There was no way to know the colour of his hair, only that the amount of blood had matted it completely. The splatters on the white floor were lost in the gasps of the waiting patients.

The nurses had done this before, and they wasted no time in calling for the ER doctors and stretchers. By this point the young man had dropped to his knees, the boy still balanced in his arms. Whatever strength he had left seemed concentrated in his grip, his fingers digging like vice into the material of the boy's shirt and jeans.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" the nurse asked as she landed on her knees in front of them, the material of her scrubs soaking up the blood.

The man seemed unable to make sense of his words. But he talked nonetheless, softly, shaking his head. She realised he was talking to the boy. His gaze were fixed on the still figure, his eyes as red as the blood that seemed to physically stick him and the boy together. Nurse Katya heard the clatter of the stretchers arriving behind her, the familiar presence of her longstanding colleague Dr Petrova kneeling next to her.

"I've got him," she heard him say, in that soft and firm voice she'd heard him use on all of his patients, from kids who needed a shot to incidents like these. Somehow he got his arms under the boy's legs and his shoulders, gently pulling him from the man's tight grip. He lifted him up, his lab coat doused in the blood already. He lay the boy's prone body on the stretcher, hands reaching in at every angle to secure him, fix the oxygen mask, staunch the bleeding. The man on the floor had stopped talking. Katya realised very quickly that his eyes were closed, that his body had gone lax. An orderly caught him before he slumped to the ground, and she saw his fingers uncurl completely, finally relaxed. Behind her, the double doors banged open as the ER opened up for the boy.

But it didn't seem that the man was going to make it that far. He was whispering again, eyes still closed. Up close she could see that his injuries were gunshot wounds; the bullets had done their damage and were slowly sapping him of life as his blood continued to seep into his shirt.

She caught his whisper as she ducked her head again to check his breathing; one word, "Safe." He paused and swallowed, his breathing wet, "As long as he's safe."

Minutes later, as she stood from the pool of blood and watched the doctors shake their head, she wished she had reassured him that that was true.

"How's the boy?"  
"Bad shape. Two gunshot wounds, one to the abdomen and side. Serious head wound. They're calling the OR, he needs emergency surgery."

Katya rubbed at her arms, feeling in limbo. There were plenty of nurses and ER doctors in there with the boy; her friend she had been at the front desk with her joined her at the double doors to the ER theatre 1, watching. "What happened to the man who brought him in?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know.  
"He died. They didn't even have time to get him on a stretcher. He must have been walking around for a while after he was shot. God only knows how he managed to carry the boy here."  
The double doors swung back open and Dr Petrova's faced appeared; he looked pained, "We need some help in here."  
Katya immediately followed her old friend, into a wall of shouts and screams.  
"Get off!" the boy was shouting, arms barely restrained by another doctor desperately trying to calm him, "Son if you don't let us sort you out we-"

"Get off me, get off me, stop!" he screamed, his leg finally wrenching free an orderly's grip. His heel struck out with alarming strength and accuracy, hitting the orderly square in the ribs. He made a great 'oof' sound and crumbled backwards.

"Get off, get off, you don't understand, you need to let me go!"  
"Everything's going to be fine," someone assured him, but he wasn't listening.  
"They'll come here!" he cried, still writhing, still bucking to get the gripping hands off him, "They'll come here, you have to let me go!"

His face was pale under the blood, dark eyes wide and panicked. Tears started to mix into the smears of blood as he grew more and more desperate.

"We need restraints," Petrova sighed, looking like he hated having to make the decision, "He's going to hurt himself or one of us if we're not careful."  
"Stop it, stop, you have to let me go! Get off me, they'll come here, they'll come here I have to stop them! Listen to me!"

The boy's yells could be heard from the entrance to the ER. The people in the waiting room averted their eyes to the floor, trying not to look over at where the body of the man who had carried the boy in had laid just moments before. No-one noticed the figures in the doorway, not with the boy's screams in their ears and the blood on their minds.  
The four black-clad figures made their way with heavy boots but quiet footfall up to the ER entrance doors. One had a head sprouting with dreadlocks of extraordinary thickness, with a swollen bruise on his upper lip and a gash running just underneath his eye. The second had the knees ripped out of his black suit trousers, and walked as though his ribs hurt him. The third had perfectly coiffured hair and a big, toothy smile which he flashed briefly to a passing nurse. The fourth was the tallest of the group, long gangling limbs barely covered by his trench coat. Each carried a semi-automatic under their coats. They shouldered their way through the double doors, and all four set their eyes squarely on theatre 1 where the panic seemed to radiate from. They dipped their hands inside their coat, and stretched out their hands to push open the doors...

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Yup, no Alex involvement yet, but there will be next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, I have a view already, thank you very much!

I'm sorry if the explanation in this is a bore, but it's got to be done and I actually quite like those bits in the Alex Rider book; always some weird and wonderful characters around!

Disclaimer: I dont own Alex Rider. If I did, things like this would happen...

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Chapter 2

The radio was playing Backstreet Boys, and Alex Rider was in such a good mood he couldn't even get irritated by it it. His housekeeper and guardian Jack Starbright was nodding her head to the music, despite her complaints that she couldn't bear boy bands. The lowering sun was sending sheets of butter-coloured light into the kitchen of the West-London house, and Jack was cooking their dinner. They had considered getting a takeaway, but Alex was still a little suspicious of the Vietnamese Jack wanted to use ever since he caught food poisoning from their roast pork belly.

Alex was reading the sports pages, catching up on the Chelsea match he had missed the night before, and for a moment he couldn't help but smile. Today, he felt completely normal. It wasn't often fifteen year old Alex Rider felt like this. Alex had been used a spy by MI6 ever since it was revealed to him that his uncle and his father had both been in the same profession. Alex was still searching for answers as to the death of his father John Rider, who had died with his mother when he was a baby. His Ian Rider's death was more recent, and it still sat at the back of his mind like an unpleasant black cloud.

Alex still sometimes thought he might turn a corner and see his uncle. Standing at the fridge, stealing the last of Jack's favourite apple juice before she could have it for breakfast. On the sofa, in a rare moment of relaxation. Coming out of the bathroom, hair wet and sticking up like he'd been electrocuted, complaining about Alex and Jack taking all the hot water. Working behind his locked office door, telling an inquisitive young Alex that his work was too boring to explain to him.

When he slowed down like this, Alex realised something that he knew he'd been carrying around with him deep down ever since that fateful day nearly two years ago now.

He missed him.

His uncle had died and before it had even begun to sink in, he had been thrown into a world of spies, assassins and destructive madmen. So in the quieter moments of his life, he found the mourning catching up with him.

Currently, Alex was two weeks away from his summer break and was enjoying every minute of the blistering sun, anxious to get through the next fortnight and away from school. Unfortunately, being on missions across the globe for MI6 did not allow much time for school work, and he was scheduled to have a tutor for most of the summer. But he was thankful he didn't have to sweat in the concrete prison that was Brooklands Comprehensive.

"You alright, Alex?"

Jack's hand touched the back of his hair, a moment of worry and affection all at once. Alex nodded, moving away with a smile, "I'm fine, Jack, just thinking."

"Well, don't think too hard, you never know what might happen."  
"I might pass my exams, according to my teachers," Alex said ruefully, nabbing the orange and pushing the newspaper aside.

"You've just got to knuckle down Alex. And hope to God _they_ don't come for you again."

Jack had taken to not flatter MI6 by referring to their real name. But when she did say it, it came out with venom and frustration.  
"I'm not working for them again. I won't let myself be manipulated into it."

As he finished his sentence, there was a light rap on the door. His stomach squeezed tight. It couldn't be. That would be just too much of a coincidence. It would be ridiculous. Jack seemed to have a suspicion too though. She had a knife in her hand from peeling the vegetables, and kept it clenched in her fist as she went to the door. Alex sighed. Even if it was MI6 come to drag him into another mess, the knife was a little extreme on Jack's part.

"Oh," he heard, once Jack had rattled the door open, "Can I help you?"  
"Does Alex Rider live here?"  
"Yes. Why?"  
"Can you give him this?"  
"Uh, sure. Who are you?"  
"Ray. But it's not from me, there was some guy standing at the end of the road and he told me to bring it here, and give it to Alex Rider. Sorry."  
"No, that's fine. Thank you. Um...bye."  
Jack moved back into the kitchen holding the knife in one hand, and a letter in the other. She gave Alex a curious look, "This sounds like something _they'd_ pull," she said, voice laden with suspicion. He handed the letter over, "It was a confused twelve year old. Did you hear what he said?"  
"Yeah. Some guy gave it to him."

Alex turned the letter in his hand. It wasn't pristine by any means, it looked like it had been worn by fingers clutching it and turning it. His name was written in simple print on the front, no flourish or pomp. Even MI6 enjoyed a little style. This certainly wasn't style.

"Is it them?"  
"I haven't even opened it Jack."  
Jack sighed and put down the knife, folding her arms in a grand gesture of impatience, "Well go on then."

Alex held back a chuckle, and slipped his finger under the lip of the envelope. It opened easily; a bog-standard envelope with a poor seal that looked to have been closed one or more times.

The letter was written on a plain piece of paper folded with odd angles into the envelope. The writing was careful, like the writer had taken plenty of time over it.

_Alex. _

_You don't know me yet, but you soon will do. I won't tell you my name as we need to seem as surprised as possible when we see each other. We're being partnered up together by MI6 and the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. I doubt you'll be too happy about being brought back into this again, and neither am I. But there's something that we can both get out of this. However much you don't want be involved with MI6 again, you'll find answers to a lot of questions you have about your family. _

"Well? What does it say? Is it MI6?"  
"No. Not quite."

* * *

Alex lay awake that night, fretting about the letter. What exactly did it mean? He got up a number of times, flipping on his bedside light and reading it again, hopefully some deeper meaning would appear.

How did the writer of the letter know that Alex even had any questions about his family's past? And how would MI6 go about trying to convince him to work for them again? Would they claim that they had answers to some of his questions? They had done it before.

Obviously it was important to his new mystery partner that Alex agreed or he wouldn't have taken the trouble to write to him and convince him.

The rest of the night he wandered what a spy from the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. He guessed he would have worked for them for awhile then retired; maybe he would roughly his uncle's age. He may have thought he could go into retirement but was then dragged back. And what would this guy get out of this?

Answers to his own questions?

But how could one mission help both Alex and a random stranger he had never met before?

He drifted off to sleep at about three o' clock in the morning, the sun straining behind the horizon and ready to rise in another summer's day glory. As his brain started to shut down, he found an idea nagging at the back of his mind: the Russian Secret Service. Maybe it was insignificant, only related to the mission itself and not to what Alex may get out of it. But it was disconcerting.

Because there was only one connection he had to Russia, and he thought he had seen the last of that on a half-destroyed Air Force One jet months ago...

* * *

"Alex Rider. Thank you for coming."  
Alex sat down stiffly in the chair in front of Alan Blunt's desk. He would have preferred to watching TV at home, or playing football in the park with his friends, or even doing his homework. His stomach sank a little at the realisation that MI6 had well and truly caught up with him again.  
"Alex, I know that we are the last people you would like to see right now."

Blunt was looking particularly funeral director-ish today, skin pale and grey despite the sun outside.

Alex nodded. There was no point lying.

"But we need your help, Alex. This is a joint request, both from us and the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. They didn't specifically ask for you, Alex; thank goodness that that particular foreign agency hasn't caught wind of you yet. But they requested someone appropriate for this joint effort, and you would suit it perfectly. Now, do you know anything about the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service?"  
"Are they are a Russian MI6?" Alex asked, not entirely seriously.  
"Yes, of sorts. They perform the same sorts of duties as us. Spies, espionage, and such. But they can get away with a little bit more than we certainly can; their political climate allows them to. Their background is the KGB; they have a certain way of doing things. We need to be careful with them Alex; both countries will benefit if this mission is successful but I am sure Russia will try to get as much as they can to sweeten the pot. You will have to make sure that their spy will not try to getting more than the mission requires."  
"You're acting as though I've already decided to say yes," Alex said, annoyed that the MI6 director thought it so obvious he was going to agree to be used again.

"The mission will be one close to your heart, Alex. It's to put an end to the suffering of a lot of people; a lot of children, more accurately. Boys and girls who are your age or even younger. Have you ever heard of the Beckett Circle, Alex?"  
"No."  
"No, it's very doubtful that you would have. We only learnt that such an organisation existed a year or so ago ourselves."

A buzzer trilled on Blunt's desk and he pressed it quickly, keeping his eyes on Alex as though the interruption might have scared him off, "Yes?"  
"They're here Mr Blunt."  
"Send them in."

Blunt stood, gesturing towards as the door as it clicked open, "This, Alex, will be your partner for the mission...if you choose to accept, of course."  
He had been imagining who the figure walking into the room would have looked like all of the previous night. He had imagined a grizzled, retired spy looking tired and angry at being drawn back into the game.

But the boy who had entered could have only been a year or so older than Alex. His hair was dark where Alex's was light, eyes a dark, mellow brown. He fixed Alex with a narrow-eyed look of confusion, then glanced over his shoulder at his companion. The man wasn't much taller than the teenager, but distinctly older. His face was starting to sag over his bone structure, and had turned the pale of rancid cheese. Mrs Jones followed behind, and Alex swore he could smell the peppermint even from a distance. She shut the door behind them and the stooped man shuffled over to the desk, beckoning the boy to follow.  
"Kai," he said, his voice laden heavily with his Russian accent, "This is Mr Blunt of MI6. And this, Alan, is the boy I was talking to you about. This is Kai Rayazanov."

Alan Blunt extended a hand, and the boy took it reluctantly.

"Alex," Blunt said, dropping the boy's hand quickly, "This is Dmitri Yeskey, he is a coordinator for the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. And Kai, this is Alex Rider. I gather that the SRV(1) didn't tell you how old exactly your partner for this mission would be."  
"No," Kai said, simply, not sounding too thrilled.  
"I haven't even agreed to this," Alex said, feeling slightly cheated. All his theories about what the letter had meant seemed to be slipping away, "I don't even know what it is you want me to do. Why should I work for you again, why can't you just leave me alone?"

He felt Kai's eyes fix on him, and the hairs on the back of his neck burnt. He hoped the hot flush could be interrupted at anger, but actually the look made him feel very uncomfortable. If Kai was the one to write the letter then the sudden look sent his way made sense; this boy wanted to get something out of this mission and if Alex said no he would be lost.

But that was no reason for Alex to start throwing himself in front of danger once again, like a worm on a hook.

"Explain to me about the Beckett Circle. What is it?"

Blunt nodded and sat back down in his seat, gesturing for the two new guests to do the same, "Well, seeing as you are both there, I'll explain to you who they are.

"In 1860, there was a man named Mr Beckett . He lived in Rotherham, where everybody was a coal miner or a factory worker, but he was unable to do either due to a severe club foot. He made money, however, through a small group that he called the Beckett Circle. It consisted on a group of orphan boys and his wife. He would send them out every day to pick pockets, steal scrap meat from the butchers, lumps of coal that had fallen off the stacks around the mine; a more northern Fagan, if you will.

After a number of years, he moved to London to pursue a similar sort of business. This time, he trained his boys to break into houses to steal money, how to racketeer it afterwards, and awarded them with a place to stay. As harmless s as it may sound, this group started to become somewhat of a London pest. The group of children, now girls too, were starting to get their hands into every piece of business and Beckett was raking in the profits: prostitution, selling opium, stealing, chimney sweep businesses.

Beckett used children because they were easy to replace if they were caught or killed; he appeared to not have any paternal instincts. He married at 45 and his wife bore him a son, but he was killed not soon after, and so I suppose we will never know if he would come to see children as more than just a tool. His wife carried on his legacy, and after that his son.

The group was starting to expand; they created a hierarchy of chain and command. Teenage boys were often Lieutenants, the teenage girls often in charge of the smaller children, and the more respect you earned the better job you could get within the group. Three generations down the line from the original Mr Beckett, and a great grandchild of his had two sons. One disappeared to Russia when he was twenty. Some years later, a similar group to the one in London started to appear in Moscow's streets. Now the authorities wouldn't give in to the idea of a vast group of small children running around and disrupting their city, so it was a largely ignored problem.

Except that sometime in the 60s, the real mafia in Moscow, and the gangs who controlled London at the time, all started to cotton on to the Beckett Circle idea. The Circle spread far and wide, with different subgroups cropping up in cities all across Russia and England. A pest paralleled in two different countries.

This is where we need you boys. Recently, the Beckett Circle have been getting their army of young children into all sorts of mess. They have been at the centre of terror attacks in Chechnya; who would suspect a small child would be strapped with explosives? They have snuck into some of the most top secret government buildings, just like I know you have Alex. They have pick-pocketed documents that were never meant to leave certain buildings. Older kids have been let loose on villages in some of the most unstable parts of Eastern Europe and disrupted the most delicate peace process. Just like in the 1800s, there were plenty of children to replace one who may do and the children were young enough to be made to do whatever the Beckett Circle wanted.

We believe that there is still a descendant of the first Mr Beckett still in charge. We want to find out who and where he is, and bring down the Beckett Circle. The media are starting to pick up on what is going on, and Russian and British government do not want t be humiliated by a group of children. Nor do they want to be seen as allowing such abuse of power over children to have happened. Not only that, but there are hundreds of children who are being killed in the Beckett Circle, or worse.

We need your help boys, to bring the Circle down, by infiltrating its highest rank and becoming Beckett Boys yourself."

Alan Blunt folded his hands on the table in front of him. Mrs Jones' peppermint clacked against her back teeth.

"So, Alex?"

Inside, Alex as debating. He was tempted to tell them that they had little right to be so morally outraged, seeing as they had sent Alex -a fourteen year old boy himself - into unspeakable danger for their own benefit. But he knew he wouldn't win that argument.

And he couldn't go back to school knowing that kids his age were being used like this in the Beckett Circle, that he had turned an opportunity to shut that down.

But he was more confused now that he had been when he first received the letter. Whatever connection this had to him and what happened to his family was not obvious to MI6. If they had any idea that Alex may gain some answers about his past from the mission, they would have used _that_ as their selling point.

So Alex had to wonder; what did his Russian partner know that MI6 didn't know?

"As you know Alan," the suited man with the drooping face said with a heavy voice, "Kai has already given his agreement on the mission. We are just waiting on your Rider to give an answer."

Alex didn't need to look around to feel Kai Razaynov's gaze on him again.

It would be strange working with a partner; he still hadn't got over the fact that there were other young spies out there, like him. But would he really put himself through the danger and mentally draining experience that was working for MI6?

He raised his head, catching Kai's eye, "Ok, fine. I'll do it."

Blunt nodded his head, and Mrs Jones pushed her peppermint to the side of her mind, "Very well. Mrs Jones, can you take Kai and Alex to see Smithers? After you boys have been given the appropriate equipment, you'll receive further instructions and be given a bit of time to get to know each other."

As they left, he saw Yeskey lean over and speak quietly in Kai's ear in Russian. Kai nodded reluctantly, and Yeskey disappeared behind the partitioning wall, heading down another wall with a new, confident stride.

Kai turned to Alex, looking ready to say something, when Mrs Jones interrupted, "Come on boys, I'll show you to Smithers."

* * *

(1) SRV - the anagram of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (of his its Russian name)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all the support and reviews guys. Hope you like this chapter!

* * *

Smithers was as round and enthusiastic as ever when Kai and Alex were shown to his office. He stood up quickly and pumped Alex's hand, "Alex old chap, great to see you. Now, who have we here?"

"This is Kai, Smithers. Kai this is the gadgets expert, Smithers."  
"Gadgets?" Kai smiled, as he shook Smithers' hand.

"And I've got some beauties for you two boys."

* * *

Smithers had decked them out with watches, Nintendo DS, baseball shoes, sunglasses and wallets; all modified to do a lot more than their original job. Seemingly innocent looking, they got through customs with ease.

Now, the plane was cruising at 30000 feet, a landscape of clouds spread out beneath them. The lights were off and the in-flight movie was trailing through its second half. They were heading to Moscow, where both the SRV and MI6 believed the centre for the most dangerous activities of the Beckett Circle took place. Alex and Kai were sat next to each other at the back of business class, with a handful of free seats around them. Up ahead a man Alex could only assume was a CEO of a bank was complaining about the wine. After the initial excitement over the leg space that they had, Kai had fallen asleep in a half foetal position in his seat, earphones in. Alex could vaguely hear the thin sound of music through them, but nothing to distinguish as to what exactly it was.

Alex leant back in his seat and started to wonder what to order for dinner, before he drifted back to the idea that there were other young spies out there. The whole notion seemed so strange; the fact that here, next to him, was a boy who had probably seen and experienced things he had. They were the same age, spoke the same language...he could have a proper friend who he wouldn't have lie about a huge part of his life to.

But then again, working together on a mission did not necessarily mean that they would become friends. The circumstances would be tough; what if they disagreed on a plan of action? Or if they just didn't get on? Could he live in such close spaces with a guy his own age who he couldn't get on with?

He mused ruefully over the varying possibilities. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Kai, and he wished the boy would wake up so that he could see what the likelihood of their getting on would be.

But they had been promised a thorough debrief and two nights in an expensive hotel in Moscow whilst a field agent worked on their background story. With any luck, that would be enough time to get to know the only other child spy he had met...

Kai woke just as dinner was being ordered. He came awake with a start, his feet kicking the seat in front of him as he jumped, despite the acres of space. He rubbed at his hair, looking ruffled and still sleepy.

Alex had learnt one thing about his new comrade so far; he didn't sleep very well. Heavily, but not peacefully.

"You Ok?" Alex asked, unable to hold back the smile. Kai's leap from sleep had caused an air hostess to nearly spill sparkling water all over a customer's lap two aisles away.  
"Yeah. Sorry," he said, leaning back in his seat, "I was having a weird dream."  
The boys ordered food and they sat back in silence, waiting. Alex mulled over some topics before starting with, "Where do you come from, in Russia?"  
"I don't, really. I was born in Kosovo. I am Russian, but that's where my family were living. When I am in Russia I live in St Petersburg. It's nicer than Moscow. I'm guessing you live in London?"  
"Yes, all my life. I've never been to Russia before."

Kai stuck a fork in the newly ordered chicken stir-fry, "You're not missing out on all that much. It's a great country if you want to do the tourist thing, but living there is different. So how long have we got left on the flight?"  
"Nearly two hours."

Kai chugged some of his coke and frowned, as though calculating in his head, "When we get our car to the hotel we'll be hitting rush hour traffic. I'd save the bread roll for then; Moscow traffic is hell."  
A silence fell over them again as they ate, Alex tucking into a 'rib platter' and Kai into his stir fry. As they were finishing up, Alex bit the bullet again.

"How old are you, Kai?"  
"Uh, seventeen. Roughly. I'm not quite sure."  
"You don't know your birthday?"  
"I decided it was going to be on the 16th November, but I've never really known exactly. How old are you?"  
Alex closed his mouth from the shock of the birthday comment and muttered, "Fifteen. How can you not know when your birthday was?"  
"Kosovo wasn't really all that up to date on its administration; I was never registered as a new birth and when my parents died, the date died with them."  
The silence this time was heavier. Alex put down his fork, "My parents died too."  
"I know," Kai said, after a pause, "They gave me a file on you."

"I haven't had anything on you."  
"It was just your date of birth, physical features and who your parents were."  
"Well, they died in a plane accident, when I was a baby. So I don't really know who they were myself."  
The out-loud acknowledgment of that fact stuck in Alex's throat.

"If it's any consolation, I don't know anything about my parents either. My Dad was an aid worker in Kosovo, I don't know anything about my mum. They both went missing when I was four. There's not much point looking into it; like I said, they weren't really big on the details when they had people going missing every day."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"My Mum was pregnant when she disappeared, so who knows. I may or may not have a younger brother or sister. How about you?"

"No. Only child."

It was roughly half an hour until they landed now, and Alex was pretty pleased that they had at least some ground covered. But there was one question he still had to ask.

"It was you that sent me that letter, wasn't it?"  
"Yes."  
"You wanted me to do this operation because we could both find answers to something. Answers to what?"

Kai pushed away his tray and settled awkwardly back in his seat, "It's complicated. But it'll get less so the more we get into the Beckett Circle."  
"So it does have something to do with this mission?"  
"Yes."  
After that, Alex didn't want to ask any more questions. He sat staring darkly out of the window, watching as Moscow sparkled into view beneath the clouds.

* * *

"I didn't realise hotel rooms could be this big," Kai commented, tilting back his head to look at the painted domed ceiling of room 99. The concierge smiled pleasantly and positioned the bell boy to bring in their bags.

But there was something wrong, Alex thought, suspiciously.  
Soon, Kai cottoned on too.

"Uh..." Alex started, looking at the concierge uneasily, "Where's the second bed?"

In front of the two boys was a large King-size sleigh bed, complete with four posters and a dark patterned canopy above. But there was only one, and the only other room they could see was a bathroom.

"I'm afraid this is the only room we have at the moment. There is a great business exhibition going on and we are fully booked, apart from this room."

The concierge looked to be pleading under his fixed smile that they would accept this without complaint.

"Great," was all Kai said, flatly. The concierge and bell boy whisked themselves away, wishing the two boys a pleasant stay, and shut the door behind them.

"Guess that's one way to get to know each other," Alex heard Kai mumble, dropping his bag at the foot of the bed.

"At least it's big," Alex placated. He sat down on it, and nearly sprang back up again, "And springy."

Kai toed off his shoes and leapt onto it, nearly flying off the other side, "Whoa, it's like a trampoline."

* * *

When the field agent came and knocked on Room 99's door, all he heard from behind the red painted wood was the sound of yells and thumping. He frowned, and knocked again. Testing the door to see if it was unlocked, he crept in carefully.

Both boys dropped to the mattress, as though the crumpled sheets, considerably drooping canopy and wild hair didn't give away as to what they had been doing. They smiled widely, with barely suppressed laughs beneath them.  
"You must be Agent Rhodes," Kai said, making his voice sound surprisingly serious, "Nice to meet you."

He got off the bed, bare foot, and treaded over his discarded shoes and socks. He shook Agent Rhodes hand, and Alex followed suit quickly.

"I see you've started to get to know each other," the agent said, not sure what to make of two supposedly top-class young spies spending their free time playing trampoline on a bed of an exclusive Russian hotel.

"Yes," was all they said, levelly.

"Well, as you guessed I'm Agent Rhodes. I'll be giving you a debrief on what will happen after the next few days."

Rhodes was tall and wide, with tight muscles packed under smooth, alabaster-white skin. He had a dark hair cut like a marine. He had a thin but not unpleasant smile, and had seemed to have decided he was quite amused by the two boys' antics. There was a circle of plush seats in the corner opposite the bed, and he sat down in one, inviting them to join him.

"I worked for the CIA for ten years before coming to the SRV, and believe me, I had no idea anyone was using such young operatives. But I've read the files on you boys, and as much as I feel trepidation about sending you into the Beckett Circle, I've got to say you're the best candidates."

Alex wondered if he could ask for a copy of that file on Kai, as his intrigue was peaking again.

"So, basically, the Beckett Circle is like a high-class, more dangerous and more complex version of Fagin's group from Oliver Twist. It's concentrated on hierarchy and earning respect; it's how the adults in charge keep the kids from turning rebellious when they get through their teens. If you give someone a role with a fancy title, they're more likely to agree with you to stay in that position. Everybody likes to feel important.

It was hard for me as an adult to gain access to any of this information. They are not interested in recruiting adults to oversee things, they want young kids. Preferably boys. Girls are mainly confined to gun and/or drug smuggling; the boys to drug money collection and violence, and both can be involved in prostitution, suicide bombings, and theft.

We don't want you boys getting way over your heads in trouble; and we think we've found an opening for you. They typically employ young boys, but young teenage boys who are easy to mould are just as good fodder. They want people with no parents, a poor background, and usually a history of violence or at least some contempt of the law. And right now, they appear to be looking for new recruits for a thieving racket they are setting up. A lot of art is starting to exchange hands right now; it's the time of year when all the big auctions are sold. They want some help in getting this art whilst it's in transport. You don't have to seem too clever, or too worldly. They just want kids who aren't complete idiots who will follow orders from their Lieutenants. Once you are in there, then you can start to find out what we need."

He handed over a pack, one for Kai and one for Alex.

"Study these over the next few days. They are all the information we have on the Beckett Circle. Positions, how to earn respect, these kids even use their own language quite often. Their names are important, their backgrounds etc, but what we want to know is who are the adult operatives of the Beckett Circle. The ones who put their money in to fund the circle, the ones who organise which client gets which set of kids to do their bidding. How the money exchanges hands, who are their clients. Things like this are vital to bringing them down. Because like every other corrupt group in the world, they are backed and formed by very rich, very smart people who have a lot of legal and political help. Whoever they are, we doubt they'll come down easy."

There was a long pause, and both boys started down at their packs weighing heavily in their hands.

"What are our cover stories then?" Alex asked, flipping over the first page in the booklet, "Do we have to change anything about our appearance?"

Alex knew all too well about this type of thing from previous missions, and he never enjoyed that part.

"Apart from dirty clothes and muddy faces there's no physical changes necessary. Apart from you, Kai, we're going to have to cover up your tattoo."

Kai's eyes briefly flickered from Rhodes to Alex, and Alex saw his shoulders tense up momentarily, "Ok."

"Good. I'll let you boys get reading then. If you have any questions, call me on the number at the back. It's a safe line, no-one can get into it. I suggest you eat plenty, stay sharp and rest a lot. It won't be a picnic."

* * *

This is definitely to convince you to keep reading and look foward to the next chapter:

Kai and Alex spend their first night in bed together and Alex might even find out where Kai's tattoo is......

hehe


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much for the reviews guy, I do truly appreciate them. Glad people are liking things so far.

Thanks Timon x3 for pointing out the mistake I made, I knew I would make one soon! I am a huge fan of the books but I often get things mixed up and assume something is right! Will try to make sure it won't happen in the future but as I still am not entirely sure when this would happen, I probably will!

And sorry hurrybee who asked whether it HAD to slash: it does! Hehe sorry, I love Alex slash and there is a distinct lack of it. I wanted to do something different to Yassen/Alex, which there is nothing wrong with it's just that that's usually what you have to read. I wanted to try an OC slash and try to do it well, without htem being all Mary-Sue ish.

Hope it's working!

* * *

Alex was already wrapped up in the covers by the time Kai emerged from the bathroom. The room was perfectly heated, not too warm and not too hot, but he tightened the sheets around him subconsciously. He wasn't self conscious, as a rule. But he was about to share a bed with a boy his age he had never met before. Alex had no idea what kind of sleeper he himself was. What if he talked in his sleep and embarrassed himself? He'd heard about people who sang in their sleep, what if he did that? What if he freaked Kai out?

Alex sighed and closed his eyes, knowing that he was just working himself up. He just needed to go to sleep and he'll be fine in the morning, he reasoned.

He woke a few minutes later, not realising that he had even slipped off. The bed was dipping on the other side and it took a moment or two for him to figure out what it meant.

Alex must have looked asleep in the dark, because Kai didn't say a word to him as he got into bed. Even across the gap between them Alex could feel that Kai had had a hot shower; the heat radiating from his skin was making him hot under the sheets. Kai kicked about a bit to get comfy, but seemed to settle after a moment or two.

Alex lay half watching Kai in the dark, thankful for the pitch black of the bedroom. The curtains covering the floor to ceiling windows were ornately decorated and almost too heavy to close, but when they had pulled them shut they had blotted out all light into the room.

"Can you not sleep or something?"

Alex leapt a mile at the sound of his partner's voice mere inches away from him. Obviously the Russian wasn't asleep at all.

"I thought you were asleep!" Alex said, a little put-off at being caught. He buried his face in the covers, hoping that Kai couldn't see his cheeks burning.

"No. I think I slept too long on the plane. Anyway, how does me being asleep give you an excuse to stare at me?"

Alex could hear the jokiness in his tone, but still he burnt with embarrassment.

"I wasn't-"

"Alex don't stress, just go to sleep." Kai chuckled, rolling over so that he faced the blonde, his eyes closed.

An hour later, it was obvious that no-one in the room was asleep. Kai sighed and sat up, ruffling his untidy hair, "I can't sleep."

"Me either," Alex grumbled. Kai lay down again, seemingly not to know what to do with himself.

"We could watch TV?"

"They only have news channels. They said if we wanted anything else we'd have to ring the disk and order it."

"We could read the notes again?"

"I don't know about you, but I've read them three times already."

Kai blew out his cheeks, "Yeah. Me too."

He rolled over to face Alex, looking bored even in the dark, "We could talk for a bit?"

"Sure," Alex said. It was a bit awkward having a conversation with a boy of a similar age whilst sharing a big double bed together, but at least he would have a chance to get to know his partner a bit more.

"So...do you go to school?"

"Yeah. It's a bit of a dump."

"How do you explain all your absences when you're on missions?"

"A series of unexplained illnesses."

"Ah, I see," Kai chuckled.

"Do you go to school?"

"I have done the last two years or so. They all think I'm a bit weird so no-one really asks me where I've been when I disappear for months on end."

"One of my teachers think I've gone a bit crazy, and that I'm seeing a therapist. That's why she thinks I keep disappearing."

Kai full-out laughed this time, "I love teachers. They can never just take your reasons at face value."

There was a pause, and Alex wondered which topic to bridge next.

"Where is your tattoo?"

There was a long, awkward pause, in which Alex realised he may have said the wrong thing.

"It's in a weird place," Kai said, vaguely, "It's nothing special."

"Oh. When did you get it?"

Alex bit down on his tongue. "Change the subject, idiot" his brain was shouting, but his mouth seemed to be running off on its own accord.

"Two years ago. I think."

Alex squirmed in the following silence, wondering how he could scrape back the conversation onto friendly ground. He had never had this much problem talking to Tom, his best friend back in London.

"Why don't I need to be able to speak Russian?" he finally asked, deciding that however obvious it was he needed to change the subject completely.

Kai shrugged, "Probably some reason. I imagine Agent Rhodes will explain at some point, although I don't know why it never occurred to him to say."

"Maybe they think I know Russian," Alex said, although he doubted it. Every time he dealt with MI6 he realised they knew more about him than he cared for.

"What languages do you speak?"

"French, German and Spanish."

"Wow. Impressive."

There was another pause, one that was a little less awkward.

"Ok," Kai laughed, his eyes a little brighter again, "I've got one: what's your worse scar from any mission you've been on?"

Alex pondered for a moment before answering, "I've broken a lot of bones. My worst was probably fractured ribs after I got shot in the chest. I was wearing a Kevlar vest but it punched my ribs hard. What's yours?"

Kai paused for a moment, thinking, "I guess...my worst would be the metal pins in my right shin. If it wasn't for being a member of the secret service, getting through security at an airport would be difficult."

"What did you do to your shin?"

Alex had heard of metal pins being used to reconstruct and heal badly broken bones, particularly after an accident. He had done a lot of skiing, snowboarding and high-risk, high-speed hobbies in his short life, and every instructor had a story of someone who had ended up in the hospital with such-and-such because he didn't do this-and-that.

They were the best kinds of lesson in safety consciousness, and had always kept Alex mindful of the dangers involved in those kinds of pursuits.

"I fell off a roof whilst chasing someone," Kai said, looking a bit embarrassed, "I slipped on a roof tile and fell two stories. Landed on a wooden cart full of potatoes. Apparently it looked exactly like a film stunt, although it hurt a hell of a lot more."

Alex chuckled. They talked for a while longer, but eventually the conversation trickled to a stop as first Kai, then Alex drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Agent Rhodes met the two boys for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. He had ordered two croissants, cheese, ham and an orange juice for himself, and a steaming cup of coffee was just arriving.

"Order yourselves whatever you like guys," Rhodes smiled.

Kai ordered coffee and toast, whilst Alex ordered fresh bread rolls, apple juice and a bowl of cereal.

"Did you have a good night's sleep boys?"

"Yes," they replied, in unison.

"Good. Today we need you to make first contact with the opening we've got in the Beckett Circle. His name is Logan Safin. He's a recruiter for the Beckett Circle, and a lazy and stupid one at that. Recently he recruited a batch load of kids from inner-city London to come over and work in Russia. It's a mutual thing the Russian and British syndicate maintain. Kids can be smuggled from one country to the other to pay the other organisation in return for any favours, injection of cash or cover up they may need.

Recently, the British element to the Beckett Circle asked for the Russians to send over some of their investments as they were running low on cash. The Russians did as was asked, and in return Britain are sending over some of their new recruits. We managed to get you boys tagged on that list of kids coming over, and you two will be taken into the inner-Moscow ring. This takes care of you not being able to speak Russian, Alex. They all speak good enough English to teach young recruiters."

Agent Rhodes cut the conversation as the waiter returned to their table, arms laden with gleaming white plates and bowls for their breakfast. When he finally left, Rhodes began talking again.

"Your cover stories are pretty simple. Alex, you were born in Peckham, London. Your parents died in drug-related incidents, and you've been in and out of care since you were ten. You came to the Beckett Circle's interest when you were 12, and have been on a couple of jobs for them. You've done some ransacking of houses, a couple of pick-pocketing missions and some general dogs-bodying.

Kai, you have a Russian father which explains why you speak Russian. But, you were brought up in the East End. Your mother died in childbirth, your father died when you were 12 in a car crash. You ran away from care and, after hearing about the Beckett Circle, insisted you were recruited. You have assisted in the hijacking of a car, you've been involved in a number of thefts and sold some pirate DVDs on the street.

Both of you have no parents, little education, a good record of doing as you are told and were eager to be transferred to Russia."

Kai let out a long breath, then took his first sip of his black coffee, "When do we have to make first contact with them?"

"Late this afternoon. You've been told to meet Logan Safina at an abandoned house where they plan to house you from tomorrow night when they've smoothed some paperwork over with the local mafia. Until then, they expect you to make do, but we want you staying here where we can continue to debrief you."

Rhodes sat back and finished off the last of his coffee, "I imagine I don't need to remind you of the importance of sticking to your cover stories. Remember, Beckett Circle kids of the lowest order don't need to be smart or savvy. Do what is ask of you but don't be too obliging or eager. All you need to do is learn names, faces, get into offices and take documents, take pictures if you can and send them all to us. I hear your man Smithers, Alex, has given you the gadgets necessary."

Alex nodded, "We've got everything we need."

"Good. When we go back upstairs, you will meet Stacey Bloom. She will fix you boys up to look like filthy urchins just smuggled over from Britain."

* * *

Alex and Kai met Stacey Bloom in the bathroom of their hotel room, where she had already set up all of her makeup, a rack of clothes and some extra mirrors. The marble counter tops were covered with foundation, blusher, palettes of paint and something wet and brown sat in a clear plastic lunch box. The sink was full of brushes of all shapes and sizes, and a box of needles and thread with a tape measure was perched next to the soap dish. Alex felt like he was in a make-up trailer for some Hollywood movie.

"Morning boys," she chirruped, brightly, "I'm Stacey Bloom. And apparently I've got to make you too look like orphaned street children."

She picked up a huge powder brush and started to rattle around with few tins. As she did so, she gestured to a miserable looking, thin man hunched in the corner by the toilet.

"This is Gaston, my assistant. He will be helping with the clothes etc. Now..."

She stood directly in front of them and eyed them both up. It was the look of a woman who knew what she was doing and had been in this profession for years.

"You must be Kai," she said. Mrs Bloom took a gentle but firm hold of his arm and pulled him into a chair that had been folded out at the other end of the bathroom. She positioned one her mirrors in front of him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Next, she steered Alex across the other side of the room towards Gaston.

"Gaston will get you fitted with some clothes."

"Really?" Alex asked, trying to rear back a bit. He felt like he could just about manage with Stacey Bloom seeing him in his underpants, but Gaston?

Gaston shuffled out of the room, gesturing for him to follow. Alex tagged along reluctantly, wishing the ground would swallow him up.

Alex had been given disguises and new outfits before, but they had never been quite as awkward as this one. He stood in his underwear staring at the back of Gaston's head as he rummaged around in a rack of clothes similar to the one in the bathroom. He had already tried on a trench coat and a hoody three sizes too big for him, but now he needed two t-shirts, and a pair of jeans and trainers. From the smell radiating from a trunk of shoes close to their bed, Alex guessed these were going to be as authentic as possible.

"Here."

Gaston had a thick Russian accent, which Alex found odd considering his name. He took the t-shirt from Gaston's pale fingers and pulled it on hastily over his head. He was hit by the smell of it as the material dragged over his face. It was damp, and smelt like a dog that had been out in the rain too long. He guessed it was dark blue, but he couldn't be sure.

"Now these."

Instead of a pair of jeans, as Alex had hoped to receive next, he realised with horror that Gaston had thrown him a pair of grey, torn boxers.

"Can't I wear my own underwear?" he protested, as Gaston turned and expectantly waited for him to put them on.

"Would it look good if you were seen wearing glistening white underwear under all those dirty clothes?" Gaston said, as though talking to a small child. He paused a moment as Alex stared down at the disgusting boxers in his hands.

"I can give you privacy," he sighed after a moment, turning around.

Alex begrudgingly pulled off his own underwear and pulled on the "new" pair. Gaston turned back around and studied them.

"They don't fit," Alex said, his cheeks flaming red, "They're way too big."

"In this life you are leading now, you are an orphan, and you get what you are given," Gaston replied curtly, and began to rummage for jeans and trainers.

"I'm an orphan in real life too, but I have boxers that fit," Alex grumbled.

Before Gaston could find a good – or bad - pair of jeans for Alex, Kai came stumbling out of the bathroom with Stacey Bloom's finger digging into the small of his back. She was still smiling, her tight perm bouncing a little.

Kai was only in boxers and a t-shirt, and had been smeared and streaked with mud and dry dirt. His hair was knotted and gnarled and it even looked as though a bit of blood was mixed in with the dirt there. Kai looked exactly like a smuggled child; he even smelt like one.

Kai was also staring aghast at what Alex was wearing.

"Is there a way to opt out of the second-hand boxers?" he asked, suddenly looking a bit pale under the mud on his face.

"You're next Alex," Mrs Bloom chirped, waggling a finger and ignoring Kai completely. Gaston dumped a pair of torn jeans and some mud-caked baseball shoes into Alex's arms and pushed him in Mrs Bloom's direction. Kai reluctantly stood on the carpet in front of Gaston in his bare feet, arms crossed and scowl on his face.

Alex desperately tried to see where Stacey Bloom may have covered up a tattoo, but didn't catch sight of anything before he was shut into the bathroom.

* * *

The abandoned house was cluttered from floor to ceiling with junk. Bits of broken furniture, ragged strips of material and a few children's push chairs. Alex swore he could even see one half of a piano through the other garbage.

They had been waiting for ten minutes, having arrived early. They had snuck out of the back of the hotel and had taken a long, complicated route to the poorer part of the city. Arriving from this direction would have looked less suspicious to anyone watching out from them from coming from the area full of hotels, theatres and shopping malls.

Both boys remained quiet, remembering that they were cowed and scared orphans, not spies on a mission. Kai meandered up and down the cleared out space that might have been a dining room, and scuffed at the dust on the floor. Alex perched on the edge of an armchair, not wanting to think of all the things that might be living in his stuffing.

They heard the tap-tap of Logan Safin's shoes before actually seeing the man himself. His belly came around the corner first, following shortly by his nose and the rest of his portly frame. He came to a halt at the doorway and put his hands on his hips, watching the two boys jump to face him with little interest.

"You kids from Britain?" he asked. His English was obviously fractured and was heavily laden with a Russian accent, but it worked well enough.

"Dah," Kai replied, nodding his head. He introduced them both in Russian.

"Good," Safin replied, in English again, "You two have luck, you know. You have been put in best part of the Moscow operative. Moscow is centre of everything. Not like backward countryside."

Both boys nodded obediently.

"You will be living in zis house for rest of time. But not tonight. Tonight, we take over the house properly. We cannot have you in here. You have found somewhere to sleep?"

"Under a railway bridge," Alex answered. They had decided only to fabricate on where or how they were surviving unless asked. If no more questions were asked, they were free to spend another night being debriefed in the hotel without fear of their 'railway bridge' being checked out.

It was obvious Logan Safin didn't give a damn where the two boys were staying. So long as they didn't die of frostbite before they were of use to him, he didn't care.

"Fine. You were asked to come here to make sure that you do not run away. We have give you opportunity in this country and we do not want to be seen as a travel agent. Do you understand?"

Again, both boys nodded immediately.

"I also wanted to make it clear that you must pay us rent for these lodgings. You will not be paid on anything you do for us, but the more you do the lower that rent will be. Find your own way to make money on side. Understand?"

They nodded again. Alex had a sickening sensation sat in his stomach. He couldn't believe how he would feel at this moment if this really was his life. He knew about child labour and forced servitude; no matter what you did you could never pay off the people you worked for. It was a binding contract and you were stuck in it forever, not able to get out.

He hoped that at the end of this, he could stop more kids being brought into the Beckett Circle and finding themselves into what was essentially slave labour.

"Ok," Logan slipped his meaty hands into his pockets, "Now, go. I have team come to clean this place out. Tomorrow you come and make home, meet other children you work with. Night time, you begin your work."

After a pause, Kai and Alex shuffled to the door and passed Logan Safin towards the exit. Alex could smell the alcohol and smoke on Safin as though it lived in his clothes and skin. He hoped he would never have to get close to him again.

Out in the fresh air, the two boys walked in silence in the direction they had come. Their shoes were too small, their jeans with enough holes to let in the cold air, and their hair had stiffened from the dirt and mud.

Both felt too uncomfortable and cold to say anything.

Suddenly, Kai stopped in his tracks and swore loudly. His eyes were fixed on a black saloon car easing its way towards the curb beside them. Alex took a step back as Kai did, on guard and adrenaline kicking in. What was going on? How did Kai recognise the car?

The number plate was personalised, BC KARAM 1, and a bulky figure was driving behind the tinted windows. Everything was still for a moment, and Alex suddenly realised Kai had moved to stand directly between him and the car.

What was happening? Alex waited, frustrated, for something to happen, but Kai seemed frozen.

The car doors opened: passenger, driver's, and the two back doors. The driver was as luminescent and pale as the moon, with a mop of dirty blonde hair on top of his head. He wore shades even though the cloud cover was complete and the air was frigid. Alex could tell the bulges under his coat were not some horrible disfigurement, but some secretly placed weapons.

Two others of similar build and similarly armed lingered at the car's doors, all keeping their eyes directed somewhere else as though on lookout.

The fourth man headed directly towards them, a Cheshire-cat smile on his face. He looked around his early thirties, handsome, but not someone a date would like to take home to meet her parents. His skin was smooth apart from a level stubble around his chin, and his hair was as dark and thick as spilt oil. Standing out from his dark hair were sparkling green eyes. A thin scar nicked at the corner of his mouth, a tiny white thread of damaged skin that extended his smile on one side a centimetre or two. He gave a slight nod, his smile nor gaze on the pair of them wavering. Alex jolted backwards as hands came forward to grab him. The men by the car had been mobilised by the nod and now reached to take hold of them, one taking his left arm and the other clamping two strong hands on each of Kai's upper arms.

Kai spat something in Russian and wriggled against the grip furiously. Alex tried to get some leverage to maybe throw a punch or unbalance his own guard, but the man dug his fingers into the muscles of his arms in such a way that his whole body felt useless and jelly-like. He doubted the move was well known beyond the secret service or the more dubious of body guards.

"Get off me," Alex tried, attempting to jerk himself free. His captor said nothing, his eyes once again turned to the road around them. It seemed oddly void of people or other cars.

The man obviously in charge of this little operation spoke to Kai in Russian, the smile still on his lips. Kai replied angrily, trying again to kick himself free. When he finally subdued, Big Smile reached out a hand and held Kai's chin in his finger and thumb.

Even without understanding the language, Alex knew he had just asked Kai a question. Kai didn't reply, and the silence stretched on.

The man pulled away and shook his head, still smiling. He lamented something with a sigh.

Alex was so frustrated at not being able to understand a thing. Even more annoying was the fact that nobody was paying a blind bit of notice to him. How on earth did these people have anything to do with Kai?

A moment later, Big Smile had turned away and was heading back to the car. When the door was closed behind him, the men holding them let go.

Alex tore himself away, but could do nothing as all the men got back into the car, shut the doors, and the driver pulled away back onto the road.

The silence set in, and suddenly Alex felt the anger start to well up in his chest.

"What the hell was that?!" Alex exclaimed when the car disappearing around the corner at the end of the street.

"Nothing," Kai growled, his arms crossed over his chest, "Nothing. Let's go."

"Kai, he knew who you were! How did he know you?"

"He doesn't know who I am, Alex, not really. He doesn't know I'm a spy, Ok? We're safe. Come on."

"No, wait," Alex demanded, staying put, "Tell me who he was. Could he tell anyone in the Beckett Circle what we're doing here?"

"He's an extension of the mafia, Alex. He's killed and maimed his way to the top of an organisation that is funded to do the dirty deeds needed to keep some people quiet and others from losing their jobs and money, it's called the Black Coats. He's Nikolai Karamzov. He's a bastard. And...and he's supposed to be dead."

Kai seemed furious. Under a thin pretence, Alex could also see that he was panicked, and even a little embarrassed. His breathing was sharp and ragged, and his eyes refused to meet Alex's.

"Alex, he won't know anything about Beckett Circle, I can guarantee that. He'll think I'm living on the street now, that should make him happy enough that he will stay away until....until I can get this sorted. Ok? Now come on."

"How do you know him?"

"It doesn't matter," Kai snapped, already walking away.

* * *

When they were back at the hotel room, the silence had become frosty. Alex was seething, but also confused. He hated being kept out of the loop.

"What do we tell Agent Rhodes?" Alex demanded.

"We're not telling Agent Rhodes anything," Kai said, stalking out onto the balcony as though to finish the conversation.

Alex scowled and followed, "What? Why?"

"It has nothing to do with the mission. The mission is still secure, we can still take down the Beckett Circle. Trust me Alex, it's fine-"

"How do I know I can trust you?!" Alex cried, the frustration finally coming out, "You're keeping so much from me! You wanted me on this mission for a specific reason and you won't tell me what that is. And I'm just expected to put up with it and whilst I wait for the answer, I have to put myself in danger in a foreign country where I don't even understand the language-"

"Ok, Alex, I get it," Kai grumbled, turning away and letting his arms drop to his side. He stared out onto the frigid skyline of Moscow, the air clouding his breath as it fell from his lips. Alex waited impatiently for something more, arms crossed in front of him and anger still simmering.

"I'm sorry I have to keep it a secret. But it's safer that you don't know until...until it happens. It's nothing dangerous, I promise Alex. And I'm sorry for what happened today, but I thought the guy was dead. I swear."

He turned back to Alex, the city lights sending outlining his dark hair in a fuzzy glow, "What can I do to show you that you can trust me? Because this won't work if you don't Alex, we might as well just pack up now. And then nothing is going to get solved."

Alex knew deep down he did trust Kai, that the boy was only trying to help. But still, he had trusted people before and they had let him down. He had trusted MI6 to some extent in the past, and it had never worked out well for him. He had promised himself not to let himself get sucked in by them again, by anyone in this field of work. And here was another field agent, asking him to trust him.

If this was any other situation Alex would have insisted he did already trust Kai. But this wasn't any other situation, and Alex still found it hard to get over that bump in the road that was his innate distrust of anyone in the secret service.

"Show me your tattoo."

The request came from nowhere, and even Alex was surprised that he has said it. But his brain slowly started to catch up with his tongue, "You don't have to tell me how you got it or anything. Just show me where it is."

Why that would make him trust him that bit more, Alex didn't know, but he stood his ground. Kai didn't respond for a moment or two, fixing Alex with a long, hard look.

"Ok."

He said, finally. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Alex unconsciously held his breath as Kai stopped a hairsbreadth away from him, close enough to feel the heat of their bodies warming the thin air between them.

Kai lifted up the bottom of his t-shirt.

Alex looked down, and the breath he had been holding came out as a silent gasp.

There, on the jutting left bone of Kai's pelvis, sat a black tangle of barbed wire. Like a panicked snake, the barbed wire was tangled and snarled, half curled and half stretched as though heading to encircle his stomach.

Alex stared at it, unabashed, lost for a moment. The make-up that Stacey Bloom had used to blot out the tattoo had already smudged away, leaving it in clear view.

It looked so real; the shadowing, the rich colours. It had been done by a true artist, not a back alley tattooist. Someone wanted to make it look as though Kai had barbed wire wrapped over his hip; like a warning not to get too close.

Alex only blinked again when Kai dropped his top and turned his head away, looking back out over the edge of their balcony.

"And if you want to know? It was Nikolai Karamzov who gave it me. He gets very possessive over the things he thinks he owns."

Kai turned abruptly and walked back into their room, leaving Alex suddenly open to the evening chill. Alex shivered involuntarily. He didn't move for a minute or two, until he started to feel the cold seeping into his extremities. His toes and fingers were numb, and he blew hastily in his cupped hands to get some life back into them.

He stomped back into the hotel room, making sure not to make eye contact with Kai. He wasn't even sure what he would say to him. But there was no fear of awkward silences; Kai was gone.

Alex breathed an inner sigh of relief.

He still wasn't asleep when Kai returned, but he kept his face hidden in the pillow and his eyes screwed shut. He faked heavy breathing, but he soon realised it wasn't going to convince Kai he was asleep.

"Why did you think Karamzov was still dead?" Alex asked.

Kai's voice came from the dark, sounding further away than it had the other night, and Alex realised he was squeezed to the other side of the bed completely.

"Someone shot him. In the back. Twice. I should have known it didn't kill him."

"What? Why?"

"No reason. I just...look Alex we've got one night left in a comfortable hotel room. We should get some sleep."

"Ok. Good night."

"Night."

Alex frowned into the pillow, his mind a whirl. He had hoped the two of them would get on, but now he wasn't sure where this left them. Could he really trust Kai?

Or would he be stupid to throw away a friendship just because of the incident. After all, Kai was probably the only other teenage boy in the world who knew what Alex felt, that dark feeling he harboured in the back of his mind every day.

Confused, Alex closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, to enjoy the last night in a comfy bed. The next night was going to be considerably harder.

* * *

Tell me what you think!! Thanks guys.


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, thank you so much for the reviews guys! I really really appreciate them. Sorry this is a little late but I got back home a little later than expected, but Im here now and Chapter 5 is mostly done so that should be up soon.

* * *

Alex continually thanked the heavens that he had had the family to look after him after his parents had died. If it wasn't for his uncle Ian who took him in, Alex wouldn't have had a home. He was beginning to feel more and more lucky with regards to that fact as he met some of the kids who he had supposedly been smuggled over with from Britain.

"Alraaght?" one boy drawled, snatching Alex's hand from his side and shaking it, "I'm Luke. I don't remember you on the boat."

Alex shrugged, "I don't remember anyone."

"Huh, yeah," Luke chuckled. He let go of Alex's hand finally, "Can't believe we're living here. It's a shit hole. I lived in a better place back in London. What the fuck."

He shook his head as he looked around. Alex couldn't help but agree. The house had been cleaned up a bit from when Alex and Kai had last seen it, but not by much. The dust still lay thick on the walls and ceilings, except some of it now floated in the air after being disturbed from the 'clean up'. All usable furniture had been taken away, and mattresses that looked very much recycled were scattered around the various rooms. Kai and Alex had taken the room at the very back corner, as they had arrived the latest and no-one had so far claimed that room. There was only one spare blanket on offer when they arrived, so they jammed the two mattresses together and decided to share the blanket between them.

Great, Alex thought, another night of awkward silences as they slept in the same bed.

Kai was at the other end of the room, talking to an Indian girl and a boy who looked like brother and sister. He glanced over at Alex, and their eyes met. Alex blinked and looked away, flustered. There was something about Kai that made him so willing to behave strangely around him. At school, even though he didn't much care about what people thought of him, he still tried to maintain a veneer of 'cool' around his peers. It was just what you did at school. Everybody tried to impress everyone else, for fear they would be caught out and mocked.

But around Kai, Alex just didn't feel like that. In fact, he seemed destined to act like an idiot in front of him.

"So you come from London?" Luke was asking him. Alex turned his back to Kai and nodded.

"Yeah. Peckham."

"You don't sound like you're from Peckham."

"Only moved there a year before my parents died. Before that I lived in Islington," Alex said, reeling off the cover story he had memorised. He knew that he couldn't even attempt to fake a true Peckham accent, so had tweaked his cover story with Agent Rhodes at the last minute. The idea of faking someone from Peckham sounded ridiculous, seeing as his own accent was so different.

Luke seemed to take the story without an ounce of suspicion, and nodded sincerely.

"Hope we get to steal some cars," Luke grinned, "Heard they have some wicked cars in Moscow. All the rich people's cars. I got done for nicking a car back in England but it was only a Ford Mondeo."

Alex felt a presence at his shoulder and jumped as Kai appeared to his right, "Hey."

"Alraaght mate," Luke grinned, shaking Kai's hand enthusiastically, "I don't remember you from the boat either."

"I saw you throwing up over the side a few times," Kai said, with a smile.

"Oh, yeah," Luke burned a little red, "It was fucking rough at one point."

"I know what you mean," Kai nodded, sympathetically. Luke eventually moved off to introduce himself to some of the others.

Alex murmured to Kai, "How did you know he did that?"

"The two kids I was talking to before told me about it. Thought it would make us look like we'd been on the boat with them."

"Sure."

There were only ten or so kids, including the two spies, living in this house. They were the rest of the group that had been chosen to come to the Moscow ring. It was apparently a desired placement; every kid Alex had spoken to had said they were glad to be in Moscow and not stuck on some outpost in the countryside.

Apparently, he and Kai weren't the only ones who had been told they started work tonight. Alex had met three other boys who had also been told the same.

Alex felt Kai's eyes on him, but didn't return the look. He busied himself checking out the rest of the house and meeting some of the others, leaving the Russian on his own.

At eight o' clock that evening, Logan Safin's burly framed blotted the light through the front door. He strolled in with three boys behind him; they couldn't have been any older than twenty but no younger than eighteen. They had hard faces, eyes that watched all of them suspiciously, and jaws set tightly as though they were not used to talking very often.

There was some confusion as to what was going on, but eventually Alex found himself in what used to be in the kitchen with Kai and a few other boys, including Luke. The three older kids lined up at the damaged kitchen counters and said nothing as Logan Safin explained their night's plans.

"You're going to do some pick pocketing tonight. There is an concert on at the Tchaikovsky Concert Hall. Rich people, big wallets. Bring back as much as you can. If you get caught it is not our problem."

Everybody in the room nodded mutely.

"These three are your Lieutenants. You answer to them, and you do as they say," he gestured to the three older boys. Alex could see why the whole rank and order thing worked to keep the Beckett Circle kids in line. The Lieutenants' presence filled the room, a cold and domineering feel. Alex wouldn't guess many younger teenagers would want to get on the wrong side of these three.

"They are Alexei, Danil and Leonid. But, you call them Lieutenant. You do as they say. If they say get out and leave, you leave. If they say go and steal that handbag, you do it. If they say sit and stay, you sit and stay."

There was another round of furious nodding.

"Good. Follow them and do your first night's work."

* * *

Alex was cold and in a terrible mood. His fingers had gone numb long ago and his toes had now gone the same way. He was huddled against the heater close to a cafe where they were still determined to sell their drinks outside. People who didn't exactly have the money to have a drink inside the gilded theatre bar were huddled in coats at the outside tables, and Alex was grateful that the restaurant had provided them heaters so he could enjoy the warmth too.

He had lost Kai in the crowd a while ago, and hadn't seen any of the others for about half an hour. But he assumed they were out there, most of them doing their first ever attempts at pick pocketing. Alex had snatched two wallets but they had been easy pickings; one had been hanging out of a man's back pocket and the other had been hastily shoved into a pocket after buying a programme from a seller outside. The training from his uncle was starting to kick in; he hadn't picked a pocket in a long time but he remembered the rules Ian Rider had laid down for him well.

Still, he had no idea how many they were expected to steal or how long they were supposed to be out here. Apparently the Lieutenants were watching, so he thought it best not to hang around by a heater for too long.

Up above him, the skyline was puckered with the gnarled and gargoyle-crusted tops of the buildings. They were in a square that was apparently very important historically, but Alex didn't know why. Clouds rolled and rumbled over a deep purple sky, looking fat with expecting snow. He took a minute to take in the scene around him; the people having a night out were unworried and laughing. Some were studying their programmes, others were making the most of not being in the theatre by catching up with old friends. All around him, people were speaking Russian. He caught a few strains of German, but there was little else he could decipher. He felt useless not being able to understand the language, and he endeavoured to try to pick up as much as possible in his time in Russia.

Alex was about to move back to the throng of people when Kai came barrelling out crowd. He stumbled, righted himself, affixed an innocent look to his face and ambled over to Alex.

"Hey."

Alex looked him up and down suspiciously.

"What happened?"

"I may have pick-pocketed a Chihuahua from a woman's handbag."

"_What?_"

"I stuck my handbag and there was a bloody dog in there! Who takes their dog to the theatre? I thought it was a rat so I dropped it and she started shrieking and hitting me with her feather boa."

He scrubbed at the back of his neck with a scowl, "I think I'm allergic to feathers. I'm all itchy."

Alex blinked, surprised, but soldiered on. He gestured to Kai's pockets, "How many wallets have you got?"

"Three. You'd better get back in there, there's some easy pickings and we've got half an hour until the doors close."

Alex nodded and started back off for the crowd. He jumped at the feel of Kai's fingers around his wrist, "You Ok?"

"What?"

"Are you alright? You look cold."

"No," Alex shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Here."

Kai removed his hoody and handed it over, revealing a stained long sleeved shirt underneath. A piece of costume from the master craftsman that was Gaston. Kai shook the hoody in his hand, "Take it. I'm used to the cold, you're not. Go on."

"No, you'll freeze. I already have one on."

"Alex take it. It's bigger, it'll fit over the top of your own. Bring it me back when you've warmed up."

Alex didn't argue. He pulled the hooded sweatshirt over his head thankfully, and despite the smell that seemed to impregnate all of their clothes, he was glad to have it on. It was still warm from Kai, and he stuck his cold hands in the pockets gratefully.

He delved back into the crowd, the melee starting to thicken as the majority of the audience arrived for the evening performance. The smell of a hundred different top-end perfumes mixed with the spicy cologne of successful business men, oil barons and exclusive lawyers. He stuck out like a sore thumb, but they brushed him aside. He had learnt to say 'I'm sorry' in Russian, and said it over and over again as he jostled through the cloud, harvesting wallets and purses as he went. Someone left a shoulder bag hanging open and he swiped up the large pink wallet inside.

By the time the crowd was starting to thin, he had ten purses and wallets. A cold hand grabbed hold of the top of his arm and he jumped, thinking he had been caught. Instead, the unsmiling face of Leonid, one of the Lieutenants, was looking down at him.

"Bring them," he said, in surprisingly unaccented English, "We are going to see Safin."

"Ok," Alex nodded. He stripped off Kai's hoody, stuffed the wallets into his own hoody pocket and jogged out of the dwindling crowd to one of the darker corners of the square. Snow was starting to fall, a soft shower of ice-cold flakes. The rest of the group were huddled in the doorway of a closed bakery, blowing into their cupped hands and stamping their feet. The other two Lieutenants were waiting, hands stuffed in their pockets. For the first time, Alex realised that their rank was displayed visually as well as by their age and demeanour. On their left arm was a red band with a black circle gilded with gold. On their right arm was a piece of black material tied tight around their wrist. Alex guessed that what Agent Rhodes had said was true; you give people a rank name a uniform, and many are happy to fall in line and do another's bidding.

Kai was leaning against the bakery's display window, and Alex handed back the hoody so he could warm up.

"You look warmer," Kai commented, as they were shepherded out of the square by the Lieutenants.

"Yes, thank you."

They pulled away a little from the rest of the group, "How are we going to do this? We need to get some information on these people," Alex said in a low voice as they were marched across the street.

"If they're taking us to a headquarters to give over the wallets, we should make the most. One of us should slip away."

Alex nodded, instantly wondering which one of them that would be.

It did seem, after ten minutes or so of walking, that they were going to an office of some kind. It was in the back of a bar, with throbbing music leaking through the walls. The air was stuffy and smelt of liquorice and damp. They shuffled in behind the Lieutenants, keeping their voices and heads down as people passed.

Alex and Kai kept themselves aware though, their eyes following every face that brushed past them in the hallway. It didn't seem like a Beckett Circle headquarters necessarily; by the sounds of it the Beckett operation was making a lot of money and this wasn't the place that screamed 'money'. Still, maybe these people here were the ones taking the orders from those higher up.

They were made to dump their prizes on a table in an empty room, guarded only by another Lieutenant. He looked a little younger than Danil, Leonid and Alexei. His face was pockmarked from what looked like a bad case of chicken pox as a child. He mouth was a hard, straight line. His hair was cut brutally short, as though he had lost his temper with it one day and decided to do something dramatic with a pair of scissors.

When they finished dropping off what they had stolen, they were ushered out. A couple were grabbed by the shoulder and told to go back, and they shuffled out onto the street looking lost and confused. Kai and Alex were amongst the few told to stay behind.

Alex was lost in a sea of Russian as the Lieutenants talked amongst themselves, looking angered and to the point of arguing. There was lots of gesturing and pointing at the remaining four boys.

"What's going on?" Alex whispered to Kai.

"Apparently there's a job we have to do. But one of them doesn't trust us to do it. The other says they have to do what Safin says."

They dropped silent as Danil, the tallest of their three Lieutenants, fixed them with an intent stare.

"You go outside and wait at both ends of street," he said, pointing to Alex and another boy.

"You," he said, gesturing to Kai, "You stay at door."

"What are we looking for?"

Alex suddenly was shoved out into the cold through the back door. Danil appeared at his side, whilst Leonid manually positioned Kai by the door. Danil pointed down the darkened of the street.

"Come."

Alex found himself stopped at the corner of the street.

"You wait and look out for black Mercedes, number plate B40. There will be another one behind it, a red Aston Martin with plate HASSA7. When you see, flash torch down the street towards us."

An over-sized torch, the kind kept in houses in countries prone to hurricanes and storms, was slapped into his palm.

"Ok?"

"Yes," Alex nodded, not daring to say anything else.

"When this happen, you go back home. If you see torch flash from other end of the street, go home. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Danil turned on his heel and left. Alex watched him go, the street around him suddenly feeling very deserted and dark. He turned his head to peer around the corner. They were in a working class part of the city, that much Alex could tell. It wasn't gangster and graffiti riddled, but the cars were as modest as the houses and the gardens were more pruned weeds that managed to face the cold rather than fancy shrubbery. He pushed his hands into the pocket of his hoody and started to bounce on his toes. The cold was starting to seep in through the thin material of his clothes and his eyes were starting to droop.

It was one a.m. and still no black Mercedes had turned the corner. Alex's neck was aching from checking to see whether the torch had been flashed from the other end of the street, and to check to see if the car was coming his way. He was numb all over, his hands and feet starting to ache from the cold. He glowered at the frigid pavement beneath him. Thankfully the snow hadn't started to truly fall yet, but occasionally a small shower would sift a lawyer over his hair and shoulders and he'd be reluctant to move and knock it off him. Moving just seemed to expose himself to the wind more.

The cars moved so silently, Alex didn't realise they eres there until it's lights caught the pavement next to him. He scrambled for the torch he had placed on the pavement, and switched it on. As the two cars moved steadily passed him, barely crawling, he flashed and waved the torch down towards where he assumed everyone else was. He couldn't be sure; the night was so dark in Moscow, with only one street light over him and another at the far end.

Alex switched off the torch and squinted through the dark. The snow was starting to fall heavily now; Alex could see it whirling in the wind as a light hanging over the back door to the bar was switched on. Someone in a hat and coat opened up the back door for the passenger in the back seat of the black Mercedes. At the same time, two men got out of the front seats of the Aston Martin. Alex was briefly reminded of their encounter with Nikolai Karamzov, and wondered whether they would come across him again. A man in his early forties stepped out of the car, black polished shoes crunching against the new lawyer of snow. Alex could only see the two Lieutenants Leonid and Danil, but both snapped off a salute.

Whoever this was, they commanded some respect.

The two from the Aston Martin went over to him, and one shook his hand vigorously. Alex could hear the murmur of voices down the street, but nothing of what was being said.

The two men separated and moved towards the door, where the portly belly of Logan Safin could seen straining out of the doorway. He shook the hands of both men, then appeared to beckon them in. Alex scuttled around the corner of the street and crouched low to the ground. Here, he could see through the street light and towards the door, but not be seen. The cold gnawed at his hands and face, and icy fingers clawed their way up his back where some skin was exposed as he crouched. Still, he remained there, shivering silently to himself.

This man who had entered the back of the bar, an office of the Beckett Circle, had obviously been a man of some importance. The man who followed in the Aston Martin looked as though he was part of that meeting, although maybe not of the Beckett Circle entirely. The third man, who had driven the Aston Martin, looked almost too big to fit in the car, and had a grizzled, dangerous look to him.

Security.

The Lieutenants hadn't sound too bothered what the new kids saw, but still, they had asked them to leave the minute the black Mercedes was spotted.

And so Alex determined that when the two came back out, he was going to find a way of following the cars. And, hopefully, to some more information about the Beckett Circle.

He jumped a mile as a cold hand touched the back of his arm, and he shot upright. His eyes met Kai, who was hugging himself in the cold.

"What are you doing?" Kai whispered, stamping his feet.

"Whoever came to meet Logan Safin and the others in there must be important in some way. We should follow them; see where they go."

"Ok," Kai said, with a nod, "But how? Running along behind the car will get us nowhere."

"We can think of that when it comes to it," Alex said, crouching down again. Somehow being closer to the ground made things a little warmer.

They huddled together in the cold, listening and watching.

When, at half two, the two finally emerged, Alex still hadn't come up with a plan to follow them.

"We could steal a car," Kai suggested, "I think I could hotwire one of these old ones."

But the cars were already starting. There would be no time. Alex knew vaguely how to hotwire a car, but it was difficult. More difficult than, say, an abandoned moped.

"I'll take the bike," he said, and dashed across the other side of the street. He had spied the bike before, leaning forlornly against a lamppost. It wasn't too covered with snow to suggest it had been abandoned due to failure, it just wasn't well-loved by its owner. Alex just had to hope that it worked well enough to tail the two cars.

"Alex, wait-"

The black car at the front was starting to move away, and the light over the back door had flickered off. He could hear the purr of the Aston Martin starting. If he wanted to follow, he had to get the bike going quickly.

It was old, and cold, and temperamental. Alex could see why its owner had left it to its own devices when he wasn't using it. But finally, Alex managed to kick start the bike and get it sputtering into life. By that point, Kai had drawn up beside him.

"You're going to follow them on your own?"

"We've got no other choice!" Alex cried, pointing out the cars heading to the opposite end of the street, "I'll just follow them, see where they may be going. Then we can decide what to do."

Without giving Kai time to argue or agree, he squeezed the accelerator and sped off into the middle of the street.

Alex hadn't ridden on a moped in the snow before, and the experience was enough to put him off or a lifetime. The wheels skidded to the side and he had to keep his balance perfect to not give the ice an excuse to throw him off. He had to brake early and with smooth ease, as any jerk would cause the tyres to slide over the ice and potentially send him reeling into the parked cars on either side of the streets.

The cars up ahead hadn't split apart yet, and Alex was wondering that if they did, who he should follow. Something inside him told the black Mercedes, and when at a junction they did part ways, he pointed the bike to follow B40.

He stayed at a reasonable distance, hoping that the billowing snow in the wind was keeping him relatively covered. Certainly the car didn't suddenly accelerate or look as though it was trying to shake him.

Soon, they were in the distinguishably more upper-class parts of the city. He could see the well tendered balconies above, and covered doorways with doormen watching the bad weather from the warm receptions.

The car eventually slowed down, and Alex steered the moped towards the pavement. He switched off the engine and watched from behind a parked car as the Mercedes angled into an underground car park. He staggered off the moped, suddenly realising how cold he was, and jogged over to the building. The arch that signalled the parking was announced in both English and Russian. The English declared: 'Kennedy Building, Private Parking'.

The building with the plaque 'Kennedy Building Apartments' was made of immaculately smooth, sand-coloured stone, with a canopy over the entrance where the doorman watched Alex suspiciously.

Alex doubled back and headed towards the moped, teeth chattering violently. He knew he couldn't stay out much longer; it was just too cold and there was no way of getting into the Kennedy Building as yet. He hopped back onto the moped and after a moment of fiddling, he set back off into the direction of the bar.

He left the bike where he had found it, and walked to keep warm back to the abandoned house.

* * *

Kai was sat up in their makeshift double bed when he got back, arms wrapped around his knees.

"Are you Ok?"

Alex nodded, feeling too cold to say anything. Kai pulled back the covers and reached up to take Alex's wrist.

"Come on."

Alex had kicked off his shoes and socks and allowed himself to be pulled under the blanket by the time he realised Kai was sporting a black eye.

"What happened?" he cried. He tried to sit up but Kai forced him back down.

"Get warm Alex," he said, quietly but forcefully. The loud snores and heavy breathing of the others sleeping echoed through the house. Alex had shut the door behind him and Kai had plugged potential drafts with bits of leftover newspaper, so it was quiet and not too cold. The bed was warm with Kai's body heat, but Alex wasn't able to enjoy it as he studied the bruise on Kai's left eye.

"Who punched you? When did that happen?"

"It's nothing," Kai said, lying down, "Just get warm and go to sleep Alex, your lips are blue."

"Kai," Alex warned, "What happened?"

Kai rolled his eyes, "I met Nikolai."

"Where?"

"Coming out of a club the next street over."

"And he _punched_ you?"

"No! Alex, leave it, Ok? Look...what did you find, when you followed the cars?"

Alex was reluctant to leave the subject of the black eye but knew there was no point pressing any further right now.

"I followed the Mercedes when they split. It went into a private car park for an apartment block called the Kennedy Building."

Kai nodded, thinking, "We'll find a way to call Agent Rhodes tomorrow. We can do a check on the plates and the building."

Alex was too cold to think anymore about it. The body heat of Kai next to him and the hush of the house was suddenly very soporific. He lay down next to Kai, and the warmth generated between the two of them eventually started to thaw him out.

"Night Alex," he heard in the dark, and he managed a mumbled reply.

Dark hair mixed with blonde as they unconsciously moved together in their sleep.

* * *

"I fucking love this job."

Luke was grinning from ear to ear when Alex and Kai entered the makeshift dining room. Someone had found a cracked, three-legged table in a skip and had dragged it back to the house. It was propped up with breeze blocks and a stack of porno magazines that had also turned up in the skip.

"Why?"

"It's the next job we get to do! Picking pockets was alright but it was boring and cold. Next one is mint."

"What is it?" Alex asked, losing his patience a little. He didn't feel himself at all; he was constantly cold and his muscles ached from the shivering. He had woken up _very_ close to Kai a few hours ago and had had to detangle himself as gently as possible so as not to wake up the Russian.

Alex wasn't about to have his partner find them practically wrapped around each other, especially since Alex was suffering the early morning ailment of most boys his age had to put up with (he hadn't stayed around long enough to notice if Kai was).

He shook off the memory and wolfed down his second piece of bread. Bread, cheese and water. He ruefully reminisced about the breakfast back at the hotel.

"We get to start a fight at a football match! You know, a riot like. We start pushing people around and pissing people off and the whole crowd goes up into a riot."

"Why are we doing that?" Kai frowned. He was sat opposite Luke at the rickety table, already finished his breakfast and looking haggard. The bruise had blossomed over night, the colour now a thick black with flecks of purple and green. He held his head carefully, and his face was tense as though it hurt. He talked flatly, without moving his lips too much. A soaked rag lay next to him, stuck to the table with melted snow. It had been a makeshift ice pack, but even in the cold of the house it had melted completely.

"No idea. But it's planned for tomorrow. Some Moscow team is playing one from St Petersburg?"

"FC Zenit?" Kai ventured.

"Yeah, I think so."

Kai smiled then flinched and set his face back to a blankness that apparently didn't hurt his eye.

Luke stood up, "Better go and spread the words I s'pose."

"I used to support FC Zenit," Kai said, as Luke disappeared.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I even went to a few matches."

"With who?"

Kai paused, his gaze distant as he thought back, "Only when I was about eight or nine, I sort of lost interest in football after then."

Alex bit down into his bread, frowning. Kai had completely ignored his question. He had two options: press on and ask him again, or shut up and say nothing.

Since he still felt awkward about the incident that morning, Alex decided to shut up and say nothing.

"Shit guys, listen to this!"

Luke came pounding back into the kitchen, a packet of bacon in his hand.

"Whoa, where the hell did you get bacon from?"

A number of the others were starting to circle, catching a glimpse of the luxury item in his hand.

"Oh, this is for everyone."

He threw the packet onto the table distractedly, "That Lieutenant Alexei came back and gave it to me. He said if we work at the oven we should get it to work."

At those words, a few sped away to the kitchen in a desperate attempt to get cooked food inside them.

"Guys, that's not the news!" Luke cried, frustrated, "Listen, listen."

He paused for dramatic effect, "The Beckett Circle guys...they're fucking terrorists! _We're_ terrorists."

Everybody stared back at him blankly. Alex supposed that Luke wouldn't have ever associated the Beckett Circle with global affairs including terrorism, but then Luke had never been debriefed on the entire organisation.

"What are you talking about?" one asked, with a sight.

"Beckett Circle kids brought down a plane coming out of Iran."

He had to repeat it twice before everyone in the house had heard and understood it.

"How do you know?" a girl asked, her face fixed in the permanent look of disgust she had had since Alex had met her.

"I just said: Lieutenant Alexei l told me. They used one of them ground-to-air rocket things."

"How the hell did they get to Iran?" Kai asked, shaking his head.

"We get sent everywhere, apparently. All over the world. Shit, they even do _terrorist _stuff. I didn't know we'd be doing that."

"Who was on the plane?"

"Family of a king or summat. What do they have in Iran? Sheiks?"

"No that's not Iran you idiot, they have Sultans."

"You got that from Aladdin, they don't have Sultans."

Alex had felt sick the moment Luke had first announced the news. An air accident. A plane being brought down. A family on board. His head felt hot and muggy.

He stood up and left the circle, heading for their bedroom and out onto the rickety metal terrace. It wasn't structurally sound anymore, but he stood firmly on its edge and let the cold clear his head.

Why was he suddenly so affected by what had happened to his family?

The last couple of months he had missed his uncle terribly. And this mission wasn't helping him move on from what happened to his family at all. It kept tearing up the slowly stitching wound and showing Alex more and more pieces to his family puzzle.

Had his parents plane been brought down too? After what Yassen had said as he died on Air Force One, nothing made sense any more.

It made him miss his Uncle more; if Ian was around at least he wouldn't have been thrown into this world in the first place...

"Alex?"

Kai appeared in the doorway, looking concerned, "Are you Ok?"

Alex scowled down at his hands gripping the rail, jaw tight. He bit down on his tongue, deciding not to say anything. He wasn't about to have a heart to heart with the guy he was supposed to be a professional spy partner to...

"Every time I hear about an car crash or an aeroplane coming down, I can't help but thinking of..."

So much for keeping quiet. What was that promise he had made to himself? Shut up and say nothing?

Well that lasted long.

Alex trailed off, his fists clenching harder onto the rail. He kept his head tilted down, his blonde hair covering his face. Kai drew up beside, leaning his back against the hard black metal.

"That's understandable. If your parents died in an air accident, you won't be able to help yourself thinking about them."

"And my Uncle."

"Your Uncle died on a plane too?"

"No, not on the plane. He died in a 'car crash', when I was fourteen. Apparently. Now I know he was a spy too, he worked for MI6. He was shot through the glass of his car window. He died and the car spun off the road."

Alex felt his eyes clouding with tears. He clenched his jaw to stop any from falling.

"I'm so sorry Alex," Kai said, softly.

"Every time I go on a mission, it's like I can see my uncle dying over and over again in the back of my mind. When I thought he had died in a car crash, I didn't know what that would have felt like. I hadn't even seen a proper car crash. So...it didn't seem real. When I learnt the truth, I still couldn't understand. I had never seen anyone being shot before, I couldn't imagine him dying that way. Now, after all I've done with MI6...I can see exactly how my Uncle died."

Alex felt the words tumbling out and anything that he had expected to stop them had turned numb.

"Now I know what someone pulling a trigger looks like. I know how to pull one myself. I know what it sounds like, what a gun being fired smells like. I've seen people shot, I've seen them dying. I've been shot myself, but that vest saved me. Now I know exactly what happened my Uncle. I can see it all. No-one is supposed to understand what seeing someone die from being shot is supposed to look like-"

Alex jumped at the feel of Kai's hand on the back of his neck. The warm fingers squeezed a little, and he felt his shoulders relax.

"I'm sorry, Alex. And I know. We know things we're not supposed to."

Kai's voice was low and quiet, but Alex could hear him clearly in his ear, "It's just...the job. You lose people."

Alex stood up suddenly, sniffing and clearing away the tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, even with a little laugh, "I don't know where any of that came from. I haven't told anyone any of that before. Even Jack, my guardian. I think she knows, but I've never said it to her. It's just...things keep reminding me how little I know about my parents and....well, how much I now know about my Uncle."

Kai smiled, "It's Ok Alex. You alright now?"

"Yeah," Alex chuckled, furiously scrubbing at his face with his left hand, "Sorry."

"No, Alex, it's fine."

Alex looked down at the frosty concrete beneath their feet, then up at Kai. He realised Kai's hand was still at the base of his neck, that Kai was only a matter of inches away from him. He could see the swelling under the dark bruise on Kai's eye had calmed , but a yellow line had blossomed on his cheek bone. Whoever had hit him had done so with some force. He felt a pull of concern.

"You lost people do because of this?" he asked, carefully.

"I guess," Kai said. Alex hadn't expected an answer at all, so he was quite please even with that.

Kai's thumb moved across one of the taught muscles from Alex's head to his neck and he felt his body melting. Still, the contact made his skim thrum with nerves. He was reminded of when Kai showed him his tattoo. Did these two do close contact in anything but emotional circumstances?

"What do you mean?"

"I never lost my parents to it, Alex. They had nothing to do with spies and espionage. They were just...brave enough – or stupid enough – to think that they could raise a family safely whilst helping out in a war zone."

"Then who did you lose?"

Alex could see a muscle in the side of Kai's jaw flicker, "No-one," he said, after a moment, "Just...just someone I knew."

"I guess you're right then," Alex agreed, "We do lose people because of this."

"Part of the job description." Kai chuckled, "Although I didn't know that meeting another person like you Alex would turn us both into grief counsellors."

"What-?"

Alex didn't know what he was about to ask, but the question was interrupted by Kai pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alex felt like he was melting and being electrocuted at the same time. There was a drumming in his head as though he had stood up too quickly. His first kiss. His mind was screaming something, not that he was listening. Suddenly his brain seemed weirdly detached from his body, and his body and his body _only_ was in control. It explained why he moved closer and wrapped his arms around Kai's waist.

Because if his brain had been connected, that would have been unthinkable. Surely if his brain was in anyway controlling his body he would have pushed Kai away. Wouldn't he? But he did seem to be thinking an awful lot considering his brain felt so far away. Maybe it wasn't so disconnected. Maybe it was dictating play all along. Maybe it was his brain's fault he let out a small, imperceptible moan into Kai's lips.

But it was certainly his brain's fault that all he could say when they pulled away from each other was, "Uh...hum."

Kai looked amused. Alex still had his arms wrapped around Kai's waist; Kai had one hand on Alex's hip and the other was still at the back of his neck .

"We've got company," Kai said, softly, in to the following silence.

"What?"

"Turn around."

Alex whipped around, head still fuzzy and body still numb from the kiss. Sat behind him was a fat, mud-brown rat. It's feet was almost hidden into the frost covering the metal terrace, and its long skin-like tail balanced it perfectly on its back legs. It twitched its nose, looking at the pair expectantly. Kai let go of Alex and kicked out with his right foot. The rat squeaked and jogged off reluctantly into the house, slipping through a hole in the wall near their bed.

Alex turned back around to fix him with a surprised look.

'What had just happened had...well, it had just happened, right?' he thought, flustered. Or had he slipped away and imagined it?

Behind them, there was the clattering and sudden movement of the Lieutenants arriving in the house. They had been told to snap off a salute whenever they saw a Lieutenant – now that they knew what they looked like – and Alex didn't want be caught out failing at the first opportunity.

"We should go," Alex said, moving away.

Kai nodded silently, following him back into their bedroom, through the broken door and out into the hallway where the others were assembled.

As they were being talked to, Alex found it hard to concentrate when his face kept burning with embarrassment. What had he _done_? They had kissed each other. What the hell did that mean?

Alex wondered whether this whole 'working with a partner' thing was actually going to get the mission completed.

* * *

Tell me what you think guys!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys. Thank you SO much for such lovely reviews. I am very flattered.

Disclaimers here though:

First disclaimer: I'd like to stress that I'm not trying to say anything disparaging about football, or the two teams in question in the riot part of this chapter. It's just that it's well known that if a sporting clash is going to happen, it is most likely to happen at football, and it's a good setting to put the two spies in. I don't mean to say that it happened because it was these two teams in particular, just that these are two teams I know a bit about from Moscow and St Petersburg. I also don't own these teams, obviously, so that's a disclaimer bit too.

Second disclaimer: if I get any Russian/football team facts/ etc wrong then I apologise.

Third disclaimer: oh yeah, and I don't own Alex Rider! I just wish I did.

* * *

"Ok, we need to talk."

Alex had had a fitful, restless sleep. He had tossed and turned and gone over every option open to him. He had even got up quietly and paced out on the terrace, hoping the biting cold of the earliest hours of the morning would jolt his mind into thinking of a solution. To no avail. He eventually slipped off into an uncomfortable, cold and unnaturally light sleep.

Alex shut the door behind him as best he could in its crippled state. He did this even though the rest of the house had long gone out to amuse themselves in the city. God only knows what they were doing, but the house was now completely empty.

"About what?"

"About what happened."

"You mean-"

"Yes," Alex coughed, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He turned to face Kai who – annoyingly – had a small smile on his face.

"What exactly did you want to talk about?"

"Us."

"Well...I think we work well together."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"I know, but I like seeing people squirm."

"Great," Alex muttered.

"Look, Alex," Kai said with a small chuckle, "We-"

"Kai, you kissed me!"

"_I _kissed _you_? Maybe, but you kissed me back."

"I...I didn't."

"Yes you did. You even moaned a little-"

"I was surprised! You surprised me. And we were having a conversation, one that I haven't had with anyone else. I've never talked to anyone about...all that."

"Well, you kissed me back. You can't deny it."

Alex gave up. He let out a long sigh and hung his head. He jumped as Kai sat down next to him.

"It's just...why did you do that?" he asked, forlornly.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"I don't know."

"That's comforting."

There was a long pause, as Alex stared down hard at the floor. He clenched his hands together in front of him.

"What's wrong, Alex?"

"I don't really know you, Kai."

"No. But if you give it some time you will."

"How? You won't tell me anything."

Kai shrugged, "It's just the way I am. I'm not used to sharing my personal life with people. Anyway, I showed you my tattoo."

"Only because I made you," Alex grumbled.

"Still, there's only a few other people who've seen it. It's not like it's a part of my life I want to make public."

"I blurted all that stuff to you," Alex groaned, running his hands through his hair, "That's it, isn't it? This is why we....because I've never met someone else in the same position as me. That's all."

"So that's the reason you kissed me back," Kai laughed, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"No, I....I don't know," Alex sighed, "I'm not...at least I don't think I am..."

"Gay?"

Alex clenched his jaw. How was he having this kind of conversation? If he had had some control and stopped the kiss then he could have saved this embarrassment. But now he was starting to think more and more about it, and it was becoming more and more obvious that there was no way in hell he was going to have pushed Kai away.

But why? Was he gay? Or was this his hormones going insane? He was fifteen, after all. Did he like Kai because his hormones were going into overdrive or something?

But he had hoped the whole relationship thing could be staved off for a while. He and his friends had talked about sex and girls and all the sorts of things teenage boys talked about. Most of the conversations about his mates' or peers' sexual conquests were nothing more than dreamy exaggeration. Thankfully Tom was more like him – a little less willing to start talking about all things sex – but he was a fifteen year old at school; there wasn't much more to talk about apart from computer games. He wondered if that should have been a sign to himself that he was gay.

'No that's ridiculous' he thought with a scoff, 'Just because I don't go on about girls doesn't mean I'm gay. But...kissing Kai sort of indicates something."

"Whoa."

Alex jumped as he felt Kai cup his face as he crouched down in front of him, the smile back in his eyes, "I can see the turmoil of you thinking this over."

"Really?"

"You're not a very easy person to read, Alex. But when you start to think about something that's worry you, you can see how your train of thought is going," he chuckled, "Your eyes go all misty and your face flickers as you think. It's like watching mime."

"Sorry," he murmured in reply, flustered at how close they were once again.

"Anyway," Alex said, leaping backwards as he heard footsteps enter the house, "We're on a mission. We need to concentrate on that. We need to keep our cover."

Kai didn't say anything for a moment, then stood up too.

"Ok," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

Kai didn't provide any more to the conversation, letting Alex talk for the both of them as the British teen endeavoured to fill the silence and stop the topic changing back to the kiss.

He replied to Alex's questions about the two football teams they would be pitting against each other in monosyllabic form, keeping his eyes on the floor or out of the window.

Eventually, Alex grew tired of the one way conversation.

"What's wrong?" he asked, testily.

"Nothing."

"I'm beginning to think that's the only word you're ever going to say to me."

Kai didn't respond. He had turned his back on Alex and was staring hard out of the window.

"Fine, Alex. Whatever."

They stood like that for a while in silence, Alex growing increasingly uncomfortable. Had he offended Kai?

He hadn't wanted to make it seem as though he was angry at the kiss, or that he hadn't wanted Kai to do it. Had he? No, of course he hadn't.

It just that it seemed a little rich for Kai wanting to do _that..._and then on the other hand being so secretive with him.

God he was confused.

Somewhere in his muddled mind, two synapses finally fired in unison and he felt the lose strands of thought starting to knit together. He moved over to Kai, standing in front of him with a sort of defiant terror.

"What?" Kai sighed. Alex was surprised as how miserable he looked.

So he took a second to inwardly steel himself. Then he kissed him.

It seemed to take the Russian by surprise because for a moment he was rigid, before finally relaxing. The kiss was similar to their first, Alex even felt the same numbness and spark of excitement as he had done then.

"Did you just do that because you felt guilty?" Kai asked, a smile flickering at the corner of his lips now.

"No," Alex said, with a sudden wave of conviction.

"Good," Kai chuckled, pulling the blonde into another kiss. Alex let out a small noise of surprise as Kai planted his hands on his hips and pulled his body flush to Kai's.

"So we can continue doing this until you're finished having your little internal meltdown?" Kai asked when they eventually pulled apart.

Alex pretended to think about it for a moment.

"If we have to," he finally concluded, then started to laugh.

'I've gone insane' Alex thought, as he couldn't get the laughing to stop even though he had resumed kissing Kai with his arms wrapped around the boy's neck.

Had he snapped? Was this it? He always thought the missions and the death and destruction and danger would make him crack one day. But not like this. Not attached to the mouth of another young spy.

Kai was laughing now, both of them finding it impossible to get a clear kiss whilst they were laughing.

Kai was the first to recover, and Alex finally stopped as the elder teen ran his hands through Alex's wild blonde hair.

"Alex, I like you. Can you accept that, please, and not worry about it?"

"I'm not _worrying-_"

"Yes you are, you're thinking about it too much. We're not exactly ordinary teenagers, we're not in an ordinary situation here."

"I know."

"Good."

"Can we make a deal though?"

Kai sounded suspicious, "What kind of deal?"

"Well...two. One: we don't do this at anything other time apart from when we're in this room and out of sight and earshot. Two: you tell me more about yourself. You don't have to do it all in one go, just...don't be so secretive."

"Fine. But I don't know all that much about you either, Alex. This is another thing you need to stop. Give it time."

There was a whoop of joy from outside their door, and the distinctive sound of Luke's voice as he yelled: "We're off guys, let's go start a fucking riot!"

"Yes. Let's," Kai grinned. He kissed Alex's forehead, just at his hairline, and detached himself from his warm embrace.

* * *

FC Zenit vs. FC 'Spartak' Moscow. A fun rivalry, a friendly game. Alex couldn't understand why someone would want a riot to take place, but he knew all too well that Beckett Circle kids who asked questions were quickly dispatched from the group.

The fans for FC Zenit were kitted out in bright blue, the Spartak fans in red and white. They were being funnelled through the city towards two different entrances; the obligatory

This wasn't Alex's first football match, and he felt a sudden thrill of excitement as the stadium loomed into view. He had made a walk like this with his uncle to see Chelsea play a number of times. Of course now he knew that his uncle's claim that the tickets he got from work was a lie; unless MI6 funded its spies to go and see football matches.

Coming to a match as a support of FC Zenit was completely different to being a Chelsea supporter; the colours were all wrong. Breathing was difficult as the ice cold refused to relent. The sun was weak and watery, and even with a new pair of gloves he had acquired from a street stall Alex was none the warmer.

"Spartak fans are 'Myaso' or Svinyi'. Lieutenant Alexei said we need to get the riot going outside of the stadium but close enough to the police to get them involved. If you want to piss off a policeman call him a 'ment'. It's a bit like 'cop' or 'pig' in English. Call it them enough times, particularly if you're up close, and it should get some reaction. During the match, if you want you can yell 'spabedo'. It's something like 'for victory'; you'll hear it a lot. And at some point we'll get covered by a massive banner the size of one of the seating sectors. Just put your hands up and help them get it unfurled, but you don't need to once it's up. I don't know what watching football in England is like, but there's going to be a lot of coloured smoke and big banners."

Kai and Alex walked and talked, having lost the others in the surging crowd a few minutes ago. They had all been briefed on the general information about the two teams and possible ways to stir up the riot, but it wasn't to be a cleverly orchestrated linguistic triumph. They were there to start a fight, to get as much violence stirred as possible.

Alex was starting to get nervous. He wished he was just coming to see the football, to enjoy it with a friend. He hadn't been to a match for such a long time, never mind with someone his age. And it would be a completely new experience in a new culture. But he couldn't enjoy it, because the minute it was over he was going to have to start calling the opposition names and throwing some stones.

He hoped that they could bring down the Beckett circle soon; it was going to be difficult to do these kinds of activities for too long.

"Ok," Alex nodded, looking around him at the sea of FC Zenit blue. He stuck close to Kai, who looked oddly happy.

"What are you smiling about?" Alex eventually asked, as the shadow of the stadium fell over them and the crowd started to stagnate in front of the entrances.

"It's just strange hearing St Petersburg accents again. I'm used to doing jobs abroad, not in my home country. Not at a football match where the team I used to support are playing."

Alex couldn't hear any differences between the Russian he heard now and the Russian he had heard on the streets over the last few days, but his grasp of the language was minimal.

"Who used to take you to the matches?" Alex ventured the question as innocently as possible. He had tried it once before and he had failed to get an answer. He had hoped that after their conversation that morning, Kai would maybe feel better about replying.

Alex felt a little stab of guilt at the thought. He hoped it didn't sound like he had returned Kai's affection as an act to get Kai to tell him more about himself. Because now he was starting to look forward to the next time they were alone together, able to enjoy their privacy.

'What's wrong with me?' he thought, 'I'm not gay! Well, I must be...but still...'

He shook away the fretting, wanting to stick by what he had promised. He needed to just take the situation as it was: he and Kai had kissed. He was looking forward to the next opportunity to do so, and he didn't want to think about stopping doing it anytime soon. Anything other than that was too much to think about

"Tom used to bring me."

"Who's Tom?" Alex blurted before he could stop himself.

Kai squinted against the sunlight as he looked up to the top of the stadium where the cheers of the steadily increasing crowd were growing.

"He was my guardian."

Alex was about to ask about the use of the past tense 'was' when Luke appeared between the two of them, ruddy cheeked and eyes lit with excitement.

"This is fucking immense. I can't wait to start a fight! And we get to see some good fucking football, FC Moscow are a good team."

"So are Zenit," Kai reminded him, waving the end of his scarf. He had bought Alex and Kai scarves at a street vendor back down the road, scooping out money from his pocket Alex hadn't realised the other spy had possessed.

"Oh yeah," Luke mumbled, going a little red. He had been designated to take the Zenit side of the fight, the hope being that if both sides were riled enough a riot would be definite.

It looked like Luke didn't exactly appreciate the choice, however.

"Hey you speak Russian, can you tell me some stuff to piss off the Spartak fans?"

Kai smiled devilishly and taught them both a few choice phrases. Some of the other Zenit fans around them applauded the Russian boy teaching his English friends some of the dirtiest phrases known to their game; others smirked or laughed. Others gave them sour looks, which the boys ignored, feeling the excitement of being completely free to offend and stir some rivalry brewing at the bottom of their stomachs.

What self-respecting teenage boy wouldn't want to cause a bit of trouble?

* * *

Dark had fallen when the match was finished. The game had been fantastic; Alex felt breathless and full of adrenaline. He had forgotten how thrilling it was to see matches live, to stand shoulder to shoulder with a wall of fans all willing for the same thing. Ok, so he had only heard of FC Zenit the day before, but he had found an uncontrollable urge to support them so that they won.

Unfortunately they hadn't, but Alex hoped that would make riling the crowd up easier for the other boys in the group. He wanted the violence to start quick, and to get out of it even quicker. He had heard things about Russian policemen and cells that in any other circumstances would make him behave without question. Now he had to actively ask for the danger of being locked up.

"Come on."

Kai nudged Alex forward into the crowd as they streamed out of the stadium, "We need to follow those big guys."

"Where?"

Kai pointed out a huddled mass of largely built skinheads heading away from the rest of the crowd. They were decked from head to foot in Zenit, had obviously had a beer or two, and were enjoying their intoxication.

"Why?"

"They're not going to start a fight on purpose but they will do soon. They're heading the wrong way, they're heading over to where the Moscow guys are going to get home. They must be staying at a hotel in the city, everyone else is headed for the train station. They're big enough to look up for a fight if someone wants to pick one."

Alex nodded, taking faith in Kai's knowledge. He followed suit as Kai jogged around the group, speeding up ahead of them towards the Spartak fans. He shouted something over his shoulder at them and they threw their arms in the air and started to sing; it was a song Alex had heard numerous times on the Zenit stands. Luke and Jack, the fourth boy in their little group, jogged behind them.

They drew up just before the police line that kept the Moscow fans separate from the Zenit fans as everyone left the stadium. The alleyway between the two main roads was small and lit only by the moonlight and orange flow from the street lamps at either end.

Kai took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Let's go and ask for the shit to be kicked out of us then."

With a deft change in languages, Kai began yelling in his mother tongue, throwing his arms out and jeering towards the fans in red and white. For a while none of them responded. Alex, Luke and Jack joined in, mimicking Kai's words with little understanding.

The lose line of armed policemen stood in between them and the Spartak supporters. Kitted with batons, riot shields and grey helmets, Alex was thinking twice about aggravating them. Still...

"Hey!" Kai cried, pointing accusingly at the back of a policeman's head and shouting something that sounded rude even to Alex. They didn't turn around to him so he started to call again, cupping his hand to his mouth. Jack and Luke were insulting them in English now, which Alex doubted they hadn't heard before, and he joined in with vigour.

Some of the Moscow fans were starting to get annoyed though. They started to shout through the gaps between the heads of the policemen, faces slowly starting to match the red of their shirts and scarves.

Alex and Jake simultaneously picked up a stone and hurled it into the crowd. That got the police's heads to turn. They were stuck though, keeping the now furious Moscow fans back. Many of the ones who had a problem with the four screaming kids were drunk and violent on it. They pressed against the police line, calling back, naming them names Alex didn't understand. Kai laughed and gestured rudely in return.

Alex picked up a half crushed can from the pavement and sent it arching over into the crowd; Kai continued the jeering and taunting in Russian. An enraged fan finally broke free, and the FC Zenit fans that had been ambling up behind them started up their own teasing chants.

'Run' Alex's instincts were telling him, as the Spartak fans powered towards him, fuelled on alcohol and passion. They identified the kids who had been ridiculing them, but also the skinheads coming up behind them dressed in blue. Good enough for a fight.

As they headed towards him, Alex heard the clatter of boots behind him and a roar of retaliation.

Kai had been right. Their aggravation of the Moscow fans had set off all those willing for a fight; they were now heading towards anyone dressed in blue to make their feelings known.

Alex turned, desperate to leave the fighting to those who actually cared.

His stomach clenched, his blood flushing cold.

The policemen that had been guarding the FC Zenit line of fans had been dodged, but now they ran towards the violence. Up ahead, the policeman desperately trying to stop the flow of Moscow fans into the alleyway had provided an affective barrier.

They were trapped. Between two lines of policemen, funnelled into a tight space, with the angry drunk football fans they had themselves angered.

He swore once, loudly to himself, then felt the wave of FC Zenit fans hit him. He was knocked sideways, right into the chest of a Spartak fan. Alex saw a flash of a tattoo down the man's neck before he was shoved away, a bottle smashing to the tarmac where he had been seconds before.

Alex tried to move backwards, desperately searching the crowd for the others. He remembered seeing the start of a fight after a Chelsea match when he was nine; how tightly his Uncle had held his hand and the tone of his voice when he told Alex to stick close to him.

He wasn't going to get hurt by the violence, he was going to be crushed by the people.

Someone barrelled into him from behind and there was a flurry of blue, red and white. He couldn't see the sky anymore, the ground and the walls of the alleyway spun into one. Alex had no idea which was left or right. His head jerked to the side as someone pulled on his arm, tugging him into a scrap between two Zenit fans hell bent on shutting up a Spartak supporter.

A fist caught his shoulder and another hit him against the hip. The crowd suddenly surged together and Alex was forced against the alley wall. His head snapped back, thumping against the concrete. For a moment he felt a wave of nausea, stars exploding in his vision. There was a tight pain in his chest as someone's elbow pressed against his ribcage.

The noise around him was suddenly muffled, an odd crackle in his ears. A hot pain flickered at his hairline before the area started to feel warm and wet.

His hands scrabbled against the wall, trying to push himself away.

Then a cool hand grabbed hold of his, gripping tight. He felt it pull him, gently but forcibly along the wall.

A voice he recognised, but couldn't place, was shouting next to his ear, demanding something. He couldn't make out the words, but soon the crushing weight of the crowd lifted. The light was suddenly brighter, the air cooler. He thought he was falling, about to hit the concrete, unable to catch himself in time, but strong arms caught him. Alex felt himself be lowered carefully sit heavily on the pavement.

"Alex? Alex are you Ok? Alex, look at me."

"Kai?"Alex was confused, "Where?"

"It's Ok, they let us out of the crowd. Alex, look at me."

Alex finally wrestled his senses under control and looked up at Kai's worried face. The Russian was panting heavily; his skin ghostly pale, making the bruise on his eye stand out starkly.

"What?"

"We were getting crushed," he explained, "I saw you hit your head. Do you feel sick at all?"

"No."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three?"

Alex couldn't be sure that Kai was holding up his fingers at all. Only his face seemed clear, and the feel of his hand at the back of his neck.

"Is he Ok?" someone asked in English, hovering above Alex where everything was blurred and dotted with stars.

"He's probably got a concussion."

"Shit he's bleeding."

"Give me your scarf."

The world was starting to slowly right itself around him, and for the first time Alex could get a good clear inhalation of oxygen into his lungs. It did wonders to clear his head, and he finally managed to blink away most of the stars.

He could make out Luke crouching next to Kai, a bruise marking his jaw.

"Are you Ok?" Alex asked them both, taking a few more healing breaths.

"Luke got his first experience of a drunken Russian punching him in the jaw."

"Yeah, fucking fantastic," Luke grumbled, "You and Kai were getting crushed. He went all white and nearly passed out; you got smacked up against the wall. I thought you were going to go down and we wouldn't see you again."

"How did we get out?"

"I got thrown out by a policeman," Luke explained, "I was trying to get them to let you guys out but they weren't listening. Kai got free and managed to convince them to let you out."

"You were bleeding," Kai shrugged, "And you're a blonde English kid, they took pity."

"I'm bleeding?!" Alex cried, putting his hand to his forehead where he had felt something warm starting to thread. His hand bumped against Kai's, who still had the scarf pressed against the cut.

"It looks worse than it is, you won't need stitches."

"Is he Ok?"

Alex's senses were still a little scrambled, and it took him a moment of deduction to work out who was speaking. It was Lieutenant Alexei, stood behind Alex and Kai and bedecked in the blue of FC Zenit.

"He's fine, just got knocked on the head."

"Good," Alexei mumbled, almost to himself, his surprisingly English accent being brought out by the stress, "Come on, I'll walk you guys home. I'd take off all your Zenit stuff, if you can."

Luke and Kai helped Alex to stand. His legs burnt and trembled and his head swam for a moment. After a pause to adjust, he felt better.

Still, Kai wrapped an arm tightly around Alex's waist, and Luke hovered nervously by.

"What happened to you?" Alexei asked Luke as he ushered them at a surprising speed back onto the main road.

"Some guy whacked me on the jaw."

"And you're Ok?" he then quizzed Kai.

Alex wasn't sure why the Lieutenant was so concerned as to their safety. He always got the impression Beckett Circle kids of the lowest order were expendable; if they ended up in hospital after doing a job then it was their problem. But here was one of their stern-looking Lieutenants shepherding them personally home and enquiring about their health.

"I'm fine," Kai nodded, although to Alex his skin still looked pale.

"You get crushed in a crowd and you might not know you're haemorrhaging inside for a while," Alexei said, sounding angry, "Are you sure you're ok? You're breathing is Ok?"

"I'm fine," Kai repeated, "I can breathe fine, I've just got a headache."

"That's from not getting enough oxygen," Alexei snapped, as though it were Kai's fault. They were still heading home, and with each step Alex was starting to feel stronger. He noticed Alexei run a hand through his hair distractedly.

He started to talk to Kai in Russian, his voice considerably less frustrated. Kai nodded in response, and turned his attention back to Alex.

"You feeling better?"

"Yes, a lot. I can walk on my own."

"That's not very advisable," Kai chuckled, "Nothing worse for a concussion than banging your head again."

Alex didn't have the stamina to argue. He allowed Kai to help him home, wondering all the while at how worried Alexei looked.

When they eventually had shut the door behind them in their temporary home, Alexei announced, "You're all accounted for. That's good. There's....there was an incident, and the Beckett Circle needed to withdraw."

"What do you mean 'an incident'?" Alex asked, as he sat down heavily at one of the chairs pulled up to the dining table. The blood had dried on his forehead and as he talked and his skin moved it started to flake onto his nose and into his eyes.

Alexei chewed on his lip for a moment, then continue with an unsteady voice, "Lieutenant Leonid stabbed someone. Someone we...if he had to stab someone, let's just say that was the last goddamn person he could have done it too."

"He _stabbed_ someone?"

"It's complicated," Alexei sighed, "But we needed to get you all out before some agent figured out that starting the riot was planned by a group posing on both sides. We don't want the Beckett Circle compromised. If any of you had been locked up, you would have blurted it all out. Everything about the Beckett Circle, down to our names."

"Thanks for the confidence," Luke grouched.

"Have you been locked up in a prison cell in this fucking country?" Alexei asked, the frustration rising again.

"No," Luke mumbled, going red.

"No, exactly. You spend ten minutes behind a locked door with a detective that wants information, and you're more than willing to give it to them."

He was breathing heavily, agitated and angry. He kept glancing out of the window and half turning to check on the front door.

"I have to go. If he gets worse-" he pointed at Alex, "Take him to the free clinic. If you head to where you picked pockets at the concert, it's between that square at the church."

"We will do," Kai assured. The trio sat watching Alexei quietly, knowing that around the house every pair of ears was pinned to the conversation.

"You don't breathe a word of this to anyone," he eventually threatening, pointing a finger, "Beckett Circle business is Beckett Circle business. You only know the minimum, but no gossiping with any other kids. For the sake of this entire thing, keep your mouths shut. I'm going back to the office, stay here and get some sleep."

* * *

"The office could mean that place we dropped off the wallets we stole. If he's going there, we could see what these people are up to."

Kai nodded, concentrating on checking Alex's wound.

"If he's going back to the office that must mean they'll be talking about Beckett Circle stuff, maybe even bringing in some of the people in charge to deal with it. We have to be there Kai, we haven't got anywhere with this investigation yet and this could be it," Alex continued.

"You're concussed, Alex! You've got a gash on your forehead and half an hour ago you couldn't focus on anything. You can't go back out there and go sneaking around an office eavesdropping on conversations like this, you'll get caught."

"What do you mean, _I _can't do this? Surely if I'm too injured to do it you are too! You look terrible."

"I didn't have my head smacked against a concrete wall. I found it difficult to breath for a moment or two but I'm fine now, I'm recovered. Let me go and do this on my own."

"_No_," Alex snapped, "We need to do this together."

Kai sat back on his heels, the wet towel he had been using to clean Alex's wound in his hand.

"Says the one who sped off on a moped on his own to follow a potential lead," he said, frowning.

"That's different," Alex cried, "This is going to take two of us, we both need to be there."

"So you _don't_ trust me to go on my own?"

"I didn't say that," Alex groaned.

"Well what are you saying? In an ideal world, yes, it would be best if we could both. But you've got a concussion. You're not in the right-"

"I can do this! I've done this before Kai, I know what I'm doing and I feel fine."

They walked in silence to where they had dropped off the purses, battling through the snow that was now driving into Moscow's streets.

Alex assumed that, once again, Kai wasn't happy with him. But he was less concerned about it in this situation; he knew that to get the information they needed two of them.

"He's wearing the stripes of a Junior Lieutenant," Kai announced, as he headed down the street towards the back entrance of the club. Alex remembered with bitterness the hours he spent waiting for the black Mercedes on this street, and felt sorry for the guard that was huddled under the overhead light by the door.

As they were heading towards him, Kai turned and pushed Alex close to the wall gently.

"You go in and try to get as much information as you can. I'll distract the guard so you can get in, but I doubt there'll be many people in there at this time of night. Probably just those doing damage control for what happened at the football match."

"Fine," Alex nodded, "When I come out, I'll wait behind...that red Citroen, there. When you walk past I'll join you."

"Ok."

Kai turned on his heel towards the freezing guard at the door.

"Mladshiy Leytenant!(1)" Kai cried, grinning. He held out his hand and shook the boy's hand vigorously. They started to talk in Russian, and Alex settled down in the cold to wait for the opportune moment.

It was twenty minutes before Kai had started to ease the guard away from the door. They were chatting in quite a friendly way, their conversation punctured by laughter.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, Alex moved away from his protection of the wall and slipped in through the door.

There was no-one inside. The club the office lay behind hadn't got going yet; the peak hour would be closer to midnight and it was only past eleven. Kai was right, the backwater Beckett Circle office was quiet. He heard Logan Safin's booming voice from a far away room, but then another familiar voice could be heard underneath it.

"Of course, Sir."

It was the Lieutenant Alexei. He recognised the very English accent, but there was another with an even rougher British accent talking to him.

"Come on Lieutenant, come to my office and we can talk in private."

They were heading his way. Alex moved quickly down the red carpeted corridor studded with doors. There was only one corridor apart from the one the pair were heading down towards him. Alex ducked down this, the red carpet muffling his tread. There was a low, narrow alcove at the end of the short corridor. He ducked and slid inside it, tugging at his long limbs to get them to fit inside the small space.

The two turned down the corridor. The footstep of Alexei's partner was significantly heavier, and he was breathing heavy as he reached a door, unlocked it, and moved inside.

The door shut softly behind them, and Alex raced to kneel beside it.

He leant his back against the wall, steadying his breathing so that it was minimal as possible. His head was thumping and he tried desperately to ignore the pain as he tuned into the conversation.

"What's going to happen Captain Reynolds?" Alexei's voice was tired and nervous.

"The retribution of a rich man is swift and uncomfortable, Lieutenant. We were paid to look after his son in a planned stunned that was supposed to bring Hassan sympathy to win a vote of confidence. And not only did we fail to keep him safe, it was one of our kids who stabbed him!"

The voice had escalated with fury, and the man took a moment to calm down.

"We're going to isolate the problem and try to placate Hassan."

"And what if that doesn't work?"

"Then we think of a plan B."

There was a heavy pause, then Alexei spoke again, "What do you mean when you say 'isolate the problem', Sir?"

The man didn't respond. Alexei fell quiet and they sat in silence for a while longer.

"You've told the recruits about the need for them to shut their traps?"

"I did, Sir. They looked terrified and many of them had minor injuries; they won't want to talk about it to anyone."

"Good. Keep an eye on them over the next few days. Any sign of them gossiping about this, and I want them on the first dingy back to that godforsaken spit of rock they come from. I'm all for the exchange of English kids for Russian kids in this organisations, but they don't half pick the thick ones to send over. No offence to you, Alexei, but you were pretty useless when you arrived."

"Yes, I was sir. I was only twelve."

"Hm. Twelve is too young. Too frightened of everything. I'm glad they raised the acceptance age. But look at you now, a strapping nineteen year old and a Lieutenant. No wonder they're considering you for a Senior Lieutenant position."

"I'm very proud to be helpful to the Beckett Circle, Sir."

The Lieutenant sounded like he had said those words before; an automatic response.

"Good boy. Now, go home and get some sleep. Remember to keep your recruits under control and scout out ones possible for Project 209."

"Yes. Goodnight Sir."

"Goodnight Lieutenant."

Alex darted away from the door and tucked himself into the alcove at the end of the corridor, listening as Alexei opened the door and shut it carefully behind him. His footsteps slowly disappeared.

Alex paused, listening for any signs of further activity, before he crawled out of the low niche. As quietly and quickly as possible, he made his way out of the corridor and back towards the main door. He didn't fancy staying any longer; the sounds of the club were starting to increase, and he had heard people walking in and out of the office regularly. Office hours had obviously started.

He was in a dangerous position; someone only had to turn the corner of head out of a room and see a Beckett circle kid sneaking around where he wasn't supposed to. But he made it outside safe, feeling the punch of cold air as he stepped out into the snow.

Kai was waiting outside, still distracting the guard. He was smoking a cigarette with him, and the two started laughing at something the Junior Lieutenant had said.

Alex managed to keep himself hidden in the flurry of snow, and flitted across to the other side of the road discreetly. He crouched down low behind the red Citroen and immediately started to shake as the cold started to seep through his clothes. The pain in his head increased, until it grew to a stabbing, ice cold pain where it had been hit against the wall.

Kai appeared about ten minutes later, walking past the car without looking down. Alex stood, taking a moment to glance at the guard. He had his back to them, huddling against the doorway in the snow.

He caught up with Kai around the corner. Kai's hair had turn almost completely white, a few flakes of snow even in his eyelashes. His lips were faintly blue, and his face was covered with concern, "Alex you look freezing."

"I am cold," Alex admitted, his jaw clattering as he spoke. Before he knew what was going on, Kai had unzipped the front of his coat. He took Alex's arms and wrapped them around his torso inside his coat. Without asking any questions, Alex squeezed tight, burying his face into the warm crook of Kai's neck.

"This country is always so cold," Alex chattered, the shaking of his voice hiding his laugh.

"You're right, but you notice it so much because you're not used to it," Kai assured, his arms now hugging Alex to him. Alex was grateful for the warmth, and he felt a lot less uncomfortable about this situation as he may have done when they first met.

Kai raised a hand and brushed away the snow from Alex's hair, pushing it back from his face.

"I'm not kissing you," Alex said.

"What? Why?"

Kai looked genuinely surprised and confused, and Alex smiled before answering, "Don't look so hurt. It's just that I saw you smoking with that kid. I hate the smell of smoke."

"Yeah, well the taste of it is no better," Kai chuckled, "So I forgive you."

"Do you smoke a lot?"

"No. Not at all, really. I've only done it to fit in somewhere or, like then, to get in with someone. Or to get warm. Disgusting habit, but when you're hanging around on the streets in this country you need to try anything to keep you warm."

"Oh. Um...why are we having this conversation out here? It's so cold."

"I have no idea. Come on, we should head back or they'll get suspicious. You can tell me everything you heard when the other guys have gone to bed."

* * *

Alex was gasping for breath between the kisses, breathing heavily. He was so hot, he hadn't felt a heat like it. Skin was touching skin as his t-shirt rode up and his feet wound around over and over again. Kai was propped above him on his elbow, hand delved into his thick hair at the back of his head. Which was hurting. God, it hurt. Why did it hurt so much?

He didn't have much time to consider the options before he realised that as he was kissing him, Kai's other hand was wandering under his t-shirt. His fingers traced the light definitions of the muscles in his chest, trailing a soft touch down past his ribcage, eventually running over his stomach. The muscles there flickered, tensing. Kai's fingers curled over his belt; the tips of his index and forefinger brushing just above-

...

Alex woke with a start, panting heavily. It took him a moment to get his bearings. Kai was sleeping a few inches away, turned away from Alex. His breathing was relaxed and heavy, sleeping peacefully.

Alex kicked away the covers, careful not to disturb Kai. He was so hot, his skin felt like it was on fire. Immediately it started to cool, and the pain in his head began to return. He remembered going to bed after taking some painkillers Kai had bought at a 24 hour pharmacy with some more money from his pockets. As he had been drifting off to sleep, he and Kai had discussed what he had heard between Alexei and Captain Reynolds. They had decided to ring Agent Rhodes the next day and check on some of the names they had required, including the Kennedy Building.

They had knocked him out into a comfortable and, ultimately, pleasurable sleep. He groaned when he rolled onto his back, realising that a dream like that hadn't come with a price. Even though his head was pounding and all he wanted to do was stick it under the pillow and go to bed, he couldn't face sharing the bed with Kai for a moment longer. Not in his current predicament.

Scolding himself the whole time, he clambered off the mattress and crept quietly into the bathroom.

The toilet was nothing more than a whole in the ground, and using it involved peeing into an upcoming draft, which was often a perilous task when the wind was particularly strong. Whatever was deposited down the whole landed into a drain that hadn't worked for years, as the smell indicated.

The base of the shower was orange with rust and dirt, with very little hot water which often disappeared in the first blast of water. The rest of the time it was freezing and pummelled whoever stood behind the curtain with icy water.

Right now, Alex considered that a blessing in disguise, as he stripped off his clothes and pulled back to the shower curtain.

* * *

Hope you liked it!! Tell me what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys. I am so honoured with the reviews, thanks so much guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and tell me what you think.

* * *

It had been two days since the discovery of what had truly happened at the football match. And both Alex and Kai had come to the conclusion that the whole job of Beckett Circle had gone disastrously wrong. Together, they had developed the hypothesis that Hassan Al-Meera (they discovered the man's full name from a phone call to Agent Rhodes) had paid the Beckett Circle to protect his son when he went to the football match. Since Hassan was about to be ousted as CEO of the flagship company, the boys (along with Rhodes) had figured Hassan wanted a sympathy vote in his favour. So he also paid the Beckett Circle to fire up a riot, all the while keeping his son safe from any actual life-threatening danger. An injury that required a quick trip to the hospital would have been perfect; something for the reporters to follow with a sympathetic tone.

But somewhere along the line, things had gone horrible wrong and Leonid had stabbed Hassan's son. An accident or an act of madness: nobody knew.

But the death of Hassan Al-Meera's son was splashed across every paper and newsroom.

The last few days had been uneventful and staid. The young team of new recruits had been sent on a few pick pocket runs, but otherwise time was theirs. Whilst others struggled with the cooker, Kai would take Alex out to show him the city. He had bought him _ukha_, a strong authentic fish soup at a street seller who hung out of his houses' back window and cooked in his own kitchen with his mother, wife and sour looking mother-in-law. By mentioning they were part of the Beckett Circle – under orders from Alexei – he gave them a bowl each for a reduced price.

Moscow was still cold, but the snow had stopped falling and the sun shone through weakly.

When they weren't out in the city, the pair spent time either with Luke – talking about the rubbish teenage boys talked about – or holed in their room – getting to know each other a little better.

Alex found he enjoyed Luke's company for long, rambling conversations about BMX bikes, cars, video games and the pros and cons of an Xbox 360 against the PS3. The time he spent alone with Kai was becoming increasingly more intimate and enjoyable in its own right. Still, at the back of his mind he was frustrated.

The mission wasn't going anywhere, and it still irked him that he wasn't find out any of the family bombshells Kai had promised him. What's more, Kai wouldn't talk to him about it.

Once, as the two boys were taking a break from a make out entanglement that had sent them rolling off their mattress, Alex had brought up the topic again. Kai had immediately shot down the conversation and silenced the British blonde by sitting on him until he promised to leave the issue alone. Alex had commented on how mature the Russian was for his age, and had received a poke in the side for his troubles.

Their next big break came in the form of a visit by Lieutenant Alexei.

* * *

Alex and Kai were occupied in their room when he arrived, the air heated by the hours the boys had spent locked up in there that morning. Activities had moved up to the stage where Alex no longer yelped with surprise when Kai's hands wondered up his shirt or migrated a little further south of his hips. During this particular instance, Kai's hand was splayed on the blonde's stomach, his thumb stroking gently the deep groove that pointed downwards into Alex's jeans. The sensation was making the younger spy strain against any restrain he had and moan, tilting his hips upwards. His own hands were under Kai's shirt, feeling the smooth line of defined muscles that snaked across his stomach; in fact he was about to do something he hadn't done before and rip the offending item off, when Luke yelled.

"Hey guys, Alexei is here."

Kai's fingers paused where they were, drifting delicately over the material at the crotch of Alex's jeans.

"Shit," he snapped. Alex groaned in frustration and rolled off him, scowling.

"Couldn't we just pretend we didn't hear him? Or that we don't care?" Kai asked, sincerely.

"We've got to think of the mission," Alex said, all the while trying to quash the insane fluttering of excitement still whirling at the base of his stomach and making other areas considerably harder to get under control.

They had been so _close_. It seemed that every time things between them were about to go up a notch they were interrupted. And Alex was interested to find out what that notch felt like when it wasn't delivered to him personally, courtesy of his own hand and Jack being out of his ear-shot of his room in the morning.

Kai muttered something darkly in Russian. He brushed the hair out of Alex's eyes, planted a last kiss on the boy's bruised lips and exited the room, still grumbling.

Alex followed suit a moment later, when he had reigned in his own feelings of frustration. When he entered the dining room, Alexei and Kai were doing some complicated hand shake as they greeted each other, something that Alex hoped was a Russian thing and not something he was ever going to have to emulate.

Their Lieutenant looked drawn and unhappy, and he didn't bother to hide it.

"Are you Ok?" Alex asked, as they greeted each other with a much less complicated head-nod.

"No," Alexei sighed, rubbing his hands over his close-cropped hair.

"What's wrong?" Luke enquired, lighting a cigarette Alexei had handed him. Alex breathed a sigh of relief when Kai declined one, making him more comfortable about doing the same.

"I'm being promoted to Senior Lieutenant," Alexei explained, miserably.

Alexei had joined the three boys in their conversations and bored pastimes on a regular basis. He appeared to have taken a shine to the trio, and - fortunately for Kai and Alex – that meant his tongue was considerably loosened.

"That's good, isn't it?" Kai questioned. The table was listing heavily on one side when the stack of porno that made up the fourth leg had diminished considerably. Alex tried not to look down at the cover of Busty Asian Beauties (1), the America copy of what looked like a liberal Russian publisher. A scattering of women busting out of their flimsy shirts stared up at him.

"I guess," Alexei shrugged, "But...it's only because of this whole Leonid thing. He was meant to get Senior Lieutenant this time around; I was put on the list to be looked at for the position next year. But now he's...I'd rather have been chosen next year on my own merit rather than as second choice."

"What's the difference between Senior and regular Lieutenant?" Luke asked. A groan of disappointment rose up from the kitchen where the desperate would-be cookers failed to get the oven to work.

"Now I can be in charge of Junior Lieutenants and new recruits. It's my job to make sure you guys didn't mess as around, to make sure the Juniors do their job and I'm available to help out the Seniors. But as a Senior Lieutenant, I get a uniform. I'm in charge of delegated to Lieutenants and organising shifts for the Privates, I got to choose a group of you to be under my wing and become my personal officers. And I attend meetings with Generals and Sergeants."

"Sounds pretty good," Kai lamented.

"It is. It's good, I want to be a Senior...it's just I'd rather not be a last resort. The others who will move up with me will never let it lie. Also: there's the ceremony."

"Ceremony?"

Alexei nodded, suddenly looking even more melancholy.

"It's all pomp and circumstances. It's where you announce who has been promoted to what. You guys will be officially named Privates, I'll be made a Senior, and about ten others will be given new titles all the way up to General."

As Luke groaned at the idea of such a boring idea, the eyes of the two young spies had lit up.

"Who attends it?" Alex asked, just beating Kai to it.

"Everyone. All the way up to the top. Generals, Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, even finance directors."

Alex felt a completely different kind of excitement trip inside his stomach.

"But not the Director. He goes only if he appoints a new deputy, and that hasn't happened even since I've been here."

"Who is the Director?" Alex asked next, taking the knife and thrusting it into the utter darkness.

"No idea," Alexei shrugged, "He's just called the Director. It's said if you've been told his name and summoned to see him, you're getting a brand new pair of cement shoes in the near future."

All three boys swallowed heavily.

"So when is this ceremony thing?"

"At the end of the week, on Saturday. It starts at 8pm, takes about two hours. Then there's the after party."

"An after party?"

"Yeah. There's a gap of about two hours after the ceremony for a break, then there's a big piss-up, basically. You know, everyone gets all those with new ranks drunk. We Lieutenants get you lot pissed and give you your nicknames. I think I'm getting thrown in the pond, that's what we did to the last guy."

Luke sounded thrilled. Kai was laughing, Alex was conflicted; it would be chance to let off steam, but how would he behave when drunk? Particularly with Kai.

The sound of the TV being switched on in the living room, and Alexei looked pleasantly surprised.

"You got the TV aerial working?"

"We only get a Russian 'adult films' channel and a channel for kids TV."

"What a combination," Alexei chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

* * *

Alex wasn't a prude, but watching porn with a load of other guys made him feel very uncomfortable. Thankfully, none of them were taking it very seriously. The summary on the TV guide had called it 'an adult interest' film, according to Kai's translation He was now sat on the edge of the sofa, eyebrows lost somewhere at his hairline as the film progressed. Luke was laughing like a drain, the girls looked disgusted and some of the other boys were crying out with despair at the terrible acting.

"She's going to ruin that cucumber," Kai sighed. Alexei was shaking his head, perched on the arm of the sofa with a look of amused entertainment. As the woman on the screen did something very impressive with the cucumber Alexei's phone trilled

He snatched it out of his pocket, had a brief conversation in Russian and snapped it shut.

"I've got to go, need to get my uniform fitted."

He hopped off the sofa.

"I'll come on Saturday to explain more about the ceremony. Until then, I think you guys will be free. Enjoy."

They called goodbye to the Lieutenant, not a single pair of eyes leaving the screen.

"Oh god, what the hell is she going to do with that pear."

There was a pause and then a roaring chorus of:

"Oh, God!"

"That's sick."

"That was well gross."

"Man she should be in the circus."

The morning of the Saturday ceremony, Alex w

* * *

oke up to find himself wrapped impossibly close to Kai under the covers. Kai's hand was pressed against his stomach and his forehead rested gently against the mop of blonde hair that each day was becoming more and more tangled.

"Kai?"

"Hm."

"Are you awake?"

Kai opened bleary eyes and pulled back a bit, blinking at Alex, "What?"

"Are you awake?"

Kai groaned and dropped his head into the pillow, smothering his face completely. Alex laughed and detached himself to go to the bathroom.

"Ceremony today," Kai mumbled when Alex walked back in the room.

"Yep."

"What are our plans then?"

Alex sat down on the mattress next to Kai, and the Russian rolled over on his back to squint up at him.

"Well, Alexei said everyone will be there. So this is our best possible opportunity to get some names and faces," Alex said, thoughtfully, "We need to use the secret cameras Smithers gave us and sent them back to MI6 and SVR."

"And then?"

"Take it from there, I suppose," he shrugged.

"Fine by me."

Kai yawned loudly and staggered out of the bed, still drunk from exhaustion.

"Let me guess: bread and cheese for breakfast again? I could do with a coffee."

Alex couldn't help but agree. He missed cereal and toast, and the Saturday morning fry ups Jack would make for them. He only hoped being made Privates had some more benefits. Kai come back from the bathroom and changed his top, wincing at the feel of the cold material against his skin.

"Have you ever heard of a man called Yassen Gregorovich?" Alex asked. It was completely out of all thread of thought had been farming in the back of his mind the past few days, and had found himself musing about it as Kai cursed the cold in his mother tongue.

"Erm...no. He sounds Russian though. Who is he?"

"An assassin."

"Well, that just makes him sound all the more Russian: assassins are one of this country';s main exports," Kai joked, "Why do you ask?"

"It's just...well, he died recently. He was shot."

"Did you know him?"

"I was with him when he died."

"Oh," Kai said, quietly. He sat down closely next to Alex, "What happened?"

"Did you hear about Damian Cray?"

"The insane millionaire. Yes, I did."

"Well, he shot Yassen. And Yassen...he knew me from before. He said something to me before he died and I was wandering whether this is...no, it's nothing."Alex had held onto the courage to talk about Yassen long enough, but now it had faded. The memory sat in his chest, a heavy weight near his heart. He didn't feel he could share what Yassen had said to him with anyone quite yet.

And if Kai had never heard of him, then maybe he was barking up the wrong tree. But how many undiscovered branches of his family's tree of secrecy be? If Kai didn't intend to discover anything to do with what Yassen had told him, maybe it was completely different.

"So _you're_ being secretive with _me_ now?" Kai smirked, "Is that allowed?"

"I'm just returning the favour."

"Sorry, Alex. I've never heard of a Yassen Gregorovich. I wouldn't know."

"No, I thought not. It's Ok, forget about it."

Alex stood up and stretched, mentally shaking away the memories that slowly started to creep back.

"Let's go and have breakfast."

As Alex retreated to the kitchen, Kai watched him go with a worried look. He had had some strange and unpleasant dreams during the last night, something inside him having reawakened old and painful memories. And the conversation he had just had with Alex wasn't helping him keep the darkness at the back of his mind away.

* * *

They decided that only one of them would wear the secret camera so as not to endanger suspicion. It was decided that since Alex had used Smithers' gadgets before, Alex would wear it. Alex would wear it.

"Are you sure this will work?" Kai asked, a certain amount of doubt in his voice.

"I trust Smithers. His stuff has saved my life before, this will work."

"Ok."

Kai pushed back Alex's blonde bangs, narrowing his eyes at their handiwork.

"What if anyone asks about it?"

"I decided to dress up for the occasion."

"Ok. And you're going to have to make sure your hair doesn't fall too far forward, or there'll be no point. You got the little receiver?"

"In my pocket."

Alex jangled the tiny black box in his right jeans pocket.

"Right. You're set."

Kai took a step back and gave Alex a full up-and-down inspection.

"It doesn't suit you, Alex."

"Oh thanks," Alex mumbled. He now wanted to pull out the damn ear stud and be rid of it. He had always hated the memory of having to wear them for his mission at Point Blanc.

He had been happy to let the piercings close up, and had been more than annoyed when Stacey Bloom had re-opened them with a stab of a needle and little warning as she had been making him up.

"You should have seen me when I had to be a misbehaving kid for cover. I had proper studs and shaved head."

Kai laughed, "I'm not saying you don't look good, Alex, it just doesn't suit you. It doesn't quite look right, now that I know you."

Once again he ran his hand over the blonde hair, "And I can't imagine you with shorter hair. I had that done once; I looked like I had just landed. It was a Jarhead cut, like the Marines."

Alex couldn't picture Kai with such closely cropped hair either, considering how thick and wild it had been since they had introduced.

"Right, are we ready to go?"

"Ready."

They met the others in the front entrance hall, everyone looking only with slightly smarter than they originally did. With an ice-cold shower, very few change of clothes and little in the way of maintain good image, the all looked basically the same, just a little less grubby.

Alexei promised to take them to the ceremony, but had said he was going drinking with his friends in the two hour gap between the ceremony and the after party, and after the actual party he doubted he would be in any state to direct them home.

"So pay attention to the route," he warned, before they set off.

Alexei was kitted out in a brand new uniform; a crisp white shirt with a navy blue jacket made of stiff material. His trousers were the same blue, with highly polished black boots that had thick, heavy soles. On his head he wore a dark cap, like the policemen Alex had seen on the streets around Moscow.

The jacket could be buttoned to the neck, and as they were walking Alexei started to do them up. The buttons were bulbous and silver, securing the jacket tightly. The stripes on his shoulders were based on the insignia worn by Senior Lieutenant of the Russian Federation. The patch was a creamy white, with three red stars in a triangle straddling a long blue line down the middle. At the end closest to the neck there were two circular symbols; one for the Russian Federation and one which stood for the Beckett Circle.

He looked a little uncomfortable in the get-up, and grew more and more serious as they grew closer.

"Behave," he warned them all, "Don't show me up at this thing; it's taken very seriously. No laughing or mucking around."

They all nodded sincerely, once again reminded of their lowly rank and order. The venue for the ceremony was similar to the office they had been to regularly. It was backed onto by another club, a slightly more high-end affair with signs indicating that for tonight it was closed for a private party.

The building on the back of the club was ivy glad and looked to have been plucked from the top-class residential streets of the city. The night air was sharp but there was no snow and little cloud.

The front door was guarded by a young man in a similar uniform to Alexei's. They exchanged brief nods and he opened up the door to let them in. They were ushered through a dark hallway, empty apart from a sweeping staircase to the right and a small side table with an empty vase on top.

Above the vase, the wall housed a gigantic mirror in a gilded frame. Alex barely recognised himself in the reflection as they walked by; dark hair terribly knotted at the back, dark circles under his eyes from hunger and cold, and a streak of dirt on his neck he couldn't scrub away. It was a wonder Kai kissed him, Alex thought.

They went straight through to the back of the hallway and out into a walled courtyard. The chill in the air was vanquished by open-flame torches in the four corners. At the back stood a thin line of uniformed men and women, outranking the recruits by leagues. They were fussing and organising, and directed the small band to sit in the back corner.

As they settled against the cold stone wall, lit by the flames for all to inspect, Alex couldn't help but feel like he was in some strange school assembly.

Except the people who wondered in for the next half an hour looked nothing like his teachers at Brooklyn Grammar. The guests were ushered to white armchairs directly opposite the new recruits, hugging the wall of the house. Many were in military uniforms of far-off countries: Cuban, Italian, Chinese and Indian. They chatted little, and when they did it was polite and easy.

Lieutenants, Sergeants, Colonels and Generals of the Beckett Circle were scattered against the two free walls, hemming the recruits into their corner as though worried they would be seen.

The ceremony started at a precise moment, although Alex had no concept of what the time was.

As the new ranks were handed out, from their new position as Privates to a new Colonel being given his stars, Alex surveyed the crowd. He deftly switched on the tiny box in his pocket and turned his head slowly, taking in the illustrious guests for the pictures. The tiny camera took hundreds of pictures from the moment it was switched on, a continuous shuttering of the tiny device to take as many pictures as possible.

The flames of the torches were doing little for Alex's confidence. Their faces were cast with shadows that danced and convulsed over faces half-clouded with darkness and half gauntly lit by the orange light.

Alex barely noticed that the ceremony had finished, but it was signalled by the honourable guests rising and applauding. Higher ranking members of the Beckett Circle snapped off a salute and stamped down with their thick soles, rousing Luke from his standing-sleep with a jerk and a, "What the crap?!"

Thankfully he couldn't be heard over the rising chat now that the official business had been adjourned.

"You guys have got two hours, then be back at here; around the front at the club. They'll let you in if you're wearing your new Private stuff in some way. The best thing to do is tie the bandana around your right wrist, then they'll know for definite it is you."

Alexei looked a little less tense now that the formalities were over. Alex and Kai kept their eyes behind Alexei's shoulder, watching the VIPs leave and disappear inside the house.

Alex switched off the tiny box in his pocket and gave Kai a meaningful look. Kai blew out air into his cheeks and shrugged. Both were doubtful that their great opportunity had really been as great as they had thought.

But they had the pictures, and hopefully that would be good enough to at least give them something.

As the new Privates wandered home in a pack - bored and wondering what to do for the next two hours as they had little preparation to go through for the big party – Kai and Alex drifted apart from the rest.

"Agent Rhodes said we leave the two devices in a small envelope jammed behind the telephone box that we call him from."

Alex nodded, immediately starting to pull the stud out of his ear, "I hate this thing."

Kai unfolded a scrappy, well-used envelope and held it open for Alex to drop the ear stud camera and the receiver into.

"I'll go and do that."

Kai leant forward and kissed him briefly on the lips, "You and get ready for the party. We've done our work for the day; time to let off some steam."

* * *

Alex had never been drunk before, but he knew without much need for analyses that he was certainly drunk right now.

"My teeth are numb," he told Kai, whose skin was a glaring white and purple under the lights.

"Welcome to the club."

In fact, his whole face was numb. His teeth, his gums, his nose. He prodded at his right cheek. Yep, that was numb too.

Accompanying his slightly numb cheeks, were daubs of fluorescent paint smeared in straight lines from his cheekbones towards the bridge of his nose. They were green, orange, purple and yellow. Some of it was even in his hair and there was a slash of bright green running across the front of his neck like a scar.

His lines were a little smudged, and so were Kai's; the two had found a private moment around the corner from the men's toilets, and the little distraction had caused some mixing of the paint.

Things around him were moving very fast, and Alex's brain wasn't quite able to keep up with it all. The lights would occasionally start to shudder, so that the whole world became disjointed and unreal.

Not that he cared, of course. In fact he had a stupid grin on his face that he couldn't get rid of. His legs were burning hot but that didn't bother him either; they were keeping him upright even as he downed his last apple sours under orders from Alexei, "One, two, three."

Alex knocked it back and felt a vague twinge at the back of his throat. It was certainly less painful than his first shot, which had burnt his throat and made his eyes water.

"Down it Private!" a newly awarded Senior Lieutenant was shouting, as Luke threw his head back and downed a pitcher of an amber, cloudy liquid.

"Alex."

Alex swung around to see Kai at his shoulder, holding two small shot glasses of a liquid so crystal clear the glass may have well have been empty.

"I wanted to give you your first experience of pure, premium Russian vodka," Kai grinned, handing Alex the shot glass.

"They've got some expensive stuff here. Any other club around in this part of Moscow, and you'd be drinking lighter fluid. This is the real thing."

Their eyes caught for a moment, both boys with equally intoxicated and thrilled smiles on their faces. They chinked their glass. One, two, three.

Alex downed the clear liquid in one and felt a burn infinitely worse than the apple sours lance down his oesophagus. His chest, stomach, mouth, all flared for a moment in acid paid before dying to a hot, murmuring heat. He gasped, feeling some of the heat escape like the door opening to a furnace.

"Whoa," he coughed, trying not to splutter too much. Kai didn't seem to affected, although his eyes had taken on a bit of a sheen.

"Good, right?" he asked. Alex was still coughing, and he thumped the Brit on the back with the flat of his hand.

"Thanks."

"You can officially say you've had proper, Russian vodka."

Alex remembered little of how they got home. He vaguely remembered falling back on an icy patch and finding Kai's strong arm catch him at the small of his back. The next minute he found himself pitching head first onto the two mattresses they shared and wishing he could sleep. He rolled and his forehead bumped against Kai's, who had crawled into the bed after him.

"Hmm," Alex moaned, a dull pain thumping where they had knocked skulls.

In as little time as it took for the moan to get out, he found himself locking lips with Kai once again. They were still numb, but tingling now as Kai rolled over on top of him, pinning him to the mattress with his bodyweight in all the right places.

Seconds started to go missing; like a film shown with some of scenes taken out. He had a vague idea they had been kissing for a while, as even his drink-numb lips were starting to burn. The next minute they weren't, and Kai was staring down at him with heavy dark eyes that swallowed Alex whole, sending his mind into a blur and his heart to speed up.

"Do you want to?" Kai asked him. It took a moment for Alex to understand what he was asking. Kai's had was at his belt buckle, fingers slipped under the metal. He was waiting for Alex's response. When he did, it was in a soft and not unhappy whisper.

"No, I don't think so."

"Ok."

And suddenly Kai was sleeping next to him, breathing heavily with his arm crossing Alex's chest protectively. Alex stared up at the ceiling, trying to bring back the last few minutes. Had he really just said no to Kai? And he had been thinking about it for a while now, that particular idea...

Oh well. His eyes were starting to close, and he didn't fight the sleep that was pulling at his conscious and sending him spinning into a heavy darkness.

* * *

Thanks guys, please tell me what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

Alex woke up with a headache quite unlike any other he had ever experienced. There was a loud, angry buzzing in his skull. Everything in his face, from his eyeballs to his nose, felt too swollen to move. There was a disgusting film of felt lining his tongue, and his stomach churned angrily. And no matter how much strength he mustered, he couldn't get his eyes to open.

He had felt similar pains before. Predominantly after being cracked over the head or knocked unconscious by a maniac hell-bent on destroying the earth. Was that what had happened? Had he been knocked out? He tried to lift up the side of his face by rolling over, but it felt stuck to the pillow. Blood? Was he bleeding to death alone somewhere, on the verge of death? What had happened?

Finally, he managed to prise his eyes open, and the white hot pain that lanced through his head made him shut them immediately and groan long and loud.

"Oh, so it lives," Kai chuckled somewhere above his head.

"Hm," Alex grumbled. Ok, so maybe he wasn't dying from a serious head injury. Maybe it was just the mother of all hangovers. Either way, he was in a lot of pain.

He managed to roll onto his back, and felt the rip of the day-glo paint on his cheeks peeling off the pillow.

He felt a cool hand across his forehead and let out a small breath at the little relief it gave him.

"How do you feel?"

He felt like he was dying. He felt like someone was slowly injecting cement into his skull. He felt like if he didn't find some way to elevate the pain and the nausea he may throw up.

"Hnnnn," he groaned, instead. Saying exactly how he felt seemed way too much effort.

"I've got the finest painkillers money can buy here. Do you want some?"

He tried to nod but gave up quickly, and instead attempted once again to crack open his eyes.

Thankfully the light wasn't quite so bright, in fact the shadow of Kai hanging over him was cast wonderfully over his face. His eyes were so narrowed he could barely see, but at least it was an improvement. Kai had a small smile on his face and he was holding a glass of water that fizzed with soluble painkillers.

"Come on then, sit up."

He felt Kai's cool hand wrap around his wrist and pull him up. He sat up with relative ease, but when his brain and stomach caught up with the rest of him he felt the colour drain from his face and the nausea rise to his throat.

"Ok, if you're going to be sick do it now before you take the painkillers," Kai warned, leaning back from Alex as though he were in danger of being hit.

"No....no....'m Ok," Alex grumbled, swallowing heavily, "I'm Ok."

Kai held the glass for him as he sipped down the aspirin. A few moments later, when his stomach had become accustomed to the new intrusion and had settled a little, Alex dared talk again.

"Why do you look so perky?"

"You should have seen me at ten this morning. Woke up needing to be sick, only just made it to the bathroom. After I threw up my last week's worth of meals, I couldn't move so I went to sleep on the bathroom floor. I woke up with when Tyson came in for a shower. That's a sight to wake up to."

Alex squinted back at the other spy, finally figuring out what was wrong with Kai's face, "You're wearing sunglasses."

Kai produced another pair from beside him, and carefully pushed them onto Alex's face.

"Thank you," Alex sighed, gratefully. The world suddenly seemed a little less painful.

"I bought them at the pharmacists along with the aspirin. The pills are really strong, you'll feel Ok soon."

"What time is it?"

"Two in the afternoon."

_"What_?"

"We got in at five this morning, Alex."

Alex groaned. The previous night was probably going to be the biggest night out he would experience, and he couldn't remember any of it. Did people do this for fun? He vowed never to touch that much alcohol again if it resulted in this kind of pain.

"So, how was your first big night out?"

Alex wanted to know how the Russian could read his mind, but gave up and simply said, "Painful."

"Yeah, they can be. Do you remember anything?"

"I remember....I remember the vodka," his tongue was slowly starting to loosen, life coming back into the stiff muscle, "That's about it."

"Do you remember how we got home?"

"No."

"Oh. I was hoping you would. I have no idea."

"Do _you_ remember the vodka?"

"Yep. Evil stuff."

"Evil," Alex concurred, putting a hand to his head, "How is everyone else?"

"Luke is still comatose in his room in the recovery position. Leila is keeping an eye on him. I wouldn't be surprised if he has alcohol poisoning; the idiot downed two dirty pitchers. The others are Ok. But Alexei hasn't shown up yet."

Alex let out a long sigh and eased himself back down to the pillow, curling himself into the mattress.

"You feel Ok?"

Kai's cool hand was at the small of his back now, rubbing gently under his shirt. It made him feel better, made his body settle into a comforting rhythm.

"I'm alright," he mumbled, not opening his eyes even behind his sunglasses, "I've never drunk that much in my life."

"You handled it very well. I was proud. You were only sick once."

"I was _sick_?"

So that was why he tasted sick in his mouth. He had sort of hoped he had been imagining it.

"Just as we left the club. I remember that bit. You leant over and chucked up on the pavement."

"Oh," Alex groaned, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't want to drink again. Ever. He had seen people throw up on the pavement when he had come back from Tom's house late at night. It had looked horrible, and he had wondered why they got so drunk it made them ill. Now he knew.

It was because they were stupid.

He was stupid.

"Do you remember anything from last night? When we went to bed? I don't even remember getting undressed."

Alex thought about it, but at the moment nothing came to him.

"No, nothing."

He continued to muse about it as Kai turned away and said, "I'm going to go and get us some food. You'll feel better with something in your stomach."

As Kai was leaving, a sudden spark ignited at the back of Alex's head. A memory started to gain momentum until it was fully formed, a clear flashback. Kai had asked him a question, he had proposed something. He had proposed something Alex had been thinking about for a while

But Alex had said 'no'. Why the hell had he said 'no'? He growled with frustration and curled tighter around himself, wishing to be pitched back into sleep.

It seemed that Alex Rider was not destined to make advantageous decisions when on alcohol.

* * *

Kai returned with a sour look, and a slice of bread and cheese for them each.

"I went to go and ring Agent Rhodes on the pay phone and got a barrage. He's furious at us because we didn't check in for a debrief about those photos."

"When were we supposed to?"

"He figured sometime this morning. He was angry we took so long to ring him; he was worried we had been caught."

Alex sat up gingerly. He still had the sunglasses pinned to his face. Whilst Kai had been gone he had scrubbed his mouth clean and had a cold shower ; he now felt a little more human but still rough.

They sat and ate their cheese and bread. It was a comfortable silence on Kai's behalf, but Alex was anxious inside. There was a white elephant in the room with him, and it wasn't letting him lie.

"Still got a headache?"

Kai's concerned voice cut through his thoughts.

"Um...no, it's getting better."

"You look thoughtful."

"Well, I'm thinking."

"What about?"

"About last night. Do _you_ remember anything after we got home? When we went to bed?"

"Well..." suddenly Kai wasn't looking at him, and when he finally did it was with a sly, yet slightly fearful look, "That depends on what _you_ remember."

"So you do!" Alex cried. The sudden change in volume made his head pound and he clutched it with both hands, "Ow."

"Maybe you shouldn't yell when you have a hangover."

"Shut up."

"Ok, fine. I'm sorry. Yes I do, I remember. But only when I went out to ring Rhodes. The cold air woke me up."

"So..."

"So what?"

"Well-"

"You mean, 'so how do you feel about being rejected'?"

"No!" Alex was about to protest, when he realised that Kai was grinning widely.

"Alex, I'm kidding. We were drunk. It wouldn't have been the best idea anyway."

"No. Exactly. But-"

Kai crawled over the mattress towards him and silenced him with a kiss, the blonde melting into the sensation. His mind drifted lazily and the tense, pained muscles relaxed.

"We'll just have to wait for a time when we're not drunk or crippled from a hangover," Kai whispered when they pulled apart.

"I'm feeling a little better now," Alex replied, a smile playing at his lips.

"Really?"

"Well that was a pretty good painkiller."

"_How_ much better do you feel?"

"I'm feeling good," Alex chuckled.

"I see."

Kai leapt off the mattress and went to jam their rickety door closed. He kicked at a rat that had scuttled out of its hidey hole, then joined Alex again on the bed.

"Maybe we should lose the sunglasses."

They ripped off the offending glasses, and groaned simultaneously as the light took its harsh revenge.

"Oh, god, ow," Kai moaned, putting his hands to his head.

Alex had his eyes clamped shut and his face buried in his knees. And suddenly he didn't feel quite so good, in fact he felt a little sick.

"Ugh," he groaned, and bolted out of the room to the bathroom.

* * *

Agent Rhodes certainly wasn't happy when the pair eventually got a payphone and assured him that they were both indeed alive. After a lecture in the importance of communication in the field, he informed them that the pictures had been helpful, but they had only been able to get three positive IDs.

One: Bret Anchor, a blind, American made a billionaire by the new-media boom.

Two: Branislaw Klejnow, Polish mob leader.

Three: Al-Shareef, distant cousin to Al-Meera.

"We want to get as much information on these three as possible. Why they are associating with the Beckett Circle, whether they are giving them money. On top of that, we need some positive IDs on any of those in charge."

The two boys assured Rhodes that they were on the case, and that things were moving as quickly as could be expected.

Alex hung up the phone and let out a frustrated sigh, "I don't feel like we've really got anywhere."

Kai shrugged, "It's a slow process."

Alex couldn't help but agree. But as his thoughts drifted from the job to his current situation, he realised how close he and his partner were.

"Shall we go?"

"Well, I have a few ideas," Kai murmured slyly, putting a hand to Alex's waist, "I'm hoping you won't turn me down this time

"No way are we doing that in here!" Alex cried.

"We could."

"No, we couldn't."

"Why not?"

"It's too small."

"Confined spaces have never been a problem for me before."

"We're in public!"

"Again, I've never really found that a problem in the past."

"Fine, then I just don't want to do it in here. _I_ have a problem with confined and public spaces."

Alex felt his face and neck flush with heat, "And it smells like a tramp died in here."

"Alex, that's us. We stink."

Alex sighed and pressed his back against the wall, gesturing with a hand that Kai should get out of the door first.

"Really?" Kai mock-pouted.

"Really."

It took them a few minutes of wriggling, but eventually the two boys broke free from the phone box and into the cool light of the afternoon sun.

"What do we do now?" Alex asked, smoothing out of his clothes hopelessly.

"We should probably start with that Bret guy, I think his office is somewhere here in Moscow."

Nikolai's voice was cold and clear over the chilly air, "I wouldn't, Kai. How is a blind man going to appreciate what you have to offer?"

The words were accompanied by a cold blast of air funnelling down the street, hitting Kai and Alex on the back of their necks.

Not him again, Alex groaned inwardly. He dared to turn before Kai, clocking Nikolai. He was without his car, but his two guards lingered nearby, eyes cast out onto the street and up to the rooftops.

Kai turned a few seconds later, his look as cold as the brittle wind. His left hand moved out consciously, warning Alex to keep close and behind him; as far away from Nikolai as possible.

Kai said something in Russian, a warning tone.

"No. I think, considering your friend here, that I'll speak in English. You always told me I needed to practise my English, Kai, I've always had such an accent. But I sound better now, no?"

Kai didn't reply. His eyes were dark and the muscles in his jaw flickered angrily.

"There's so many questions to ask you as well, Kai," Nikolai laughed. He was laid back, hands dug into the pockets of dark denim jeans. Alex could see the tip of a snake tattoo poke out from Nikolai's right jacket sleeve, and felt a twist in his stomach at the thought of the tattoo this man had given Kai.

"Where did you run away to? Did you go back to St Petersburg? You always said you preferred it there, you always complained about Moscow. I couldn't understand that. It's so backward there. And I wonder what you ran back to. Weren't you homeless?"

His voice was smooth, but Alex could almost hear the buttons he was pushing as Kai tensed up next to him.

"It's none of your business what happened to me, now leave us alone."

"And yet," Nikolai continued, as though he hadn't heard Kai, "Here I find you, in Moscow again. And with a sidekick, who you seem to spend all your time with."

The cold eyes turned to Alex. Alex's skin prickled coldly.

"You're not good at holding your drink, are you Alex? Vomiting on the streets; I wonder what your family would think. By the looks of things, Kai here has been a bad influence. He drank at a young age. And I can't help but wonder what a boy like you is doing here on the streets of a city like Moscow?"

"He's got nothing to do with you," Kai snapped. "Don't talk to him."

Nikolai smirked, "You're very protective, Kai."

"Shut up, and fuck off," Kai snarled.

"Of course. Why not? You're not mine anymore, are you?"

"We're leaving," Kai snapped, turning on his heel. Alex followed suit awkwardly, not feeling comfortable turning his back on a man so heavily guarded by armed men.

"I heard about what happened to Tom!" Nikolai called after them, the flutter of amusement in his voice clear, "I'm sorry, Kai, how unfortunate. I suppose you're on your own again, am I right?!"

Kai was running now. Alex picked up the pace to follow him, realising how far he lagged behind. But when he turned the corner after the Russian the street was clear.

Kai had disappeared.

* * *

Kai didn't talk when he returned. Not that Alex had dared try to ask him any questions. He had pretended to be engrossed in conversation with Luke, but he had his ears straining to hear sounds from the bedroom when the door slammed behind him.

"What's up with him?" asked Luke. He had risen from bed when Alexei had arrived with their dinner; a box filled with ten take away bowls of _ukha. _Alexei and Luke had looked as rough as each other. Both pale and slightly green, the skin around their eyes blackened with exhaustion. Alexei had his head pinned against the table as though lifting it were too much effort. Luke was sipping at the _ukha_ but only at a very tentative, delicate pace.

"Nothing," Alex said, as lightly as possible.

Luke got up and inched his way back to his bedroom. His roommates had cleared out after the number of times he had thrown up the night before, and he had the room to himself.

The dining room was now clear, apart from Alexei and Alex himself. He watched as the Senior Lieutenant slowly raised his head and looked directly at him with narrowed eyes, "I've got a job for you."

"For me?"

"For you and Kai. The Beckett Circle have a job to do and I was told to pick some of my new Privates to help out. The ones I trusted the most, the ones I thought would do the job well. You've got to understand, we're desperate for people and otherwise we would never choose such new recruits. But, well, we're desperate."

"That's nice to know," Alex commented, but Alexei didn't seem to hear him.

"So, will you do it?"

"What does it involve?"

"It's dangerous, that much I know. But I think you guys can handle it. And I trust you too. I trust Luke, but I think he's a bit...well, he's all talk and no show. And it involves some rough travelling."

Alex was brightening. They were being given a job, a proper Beckett Circle job. This way, they could find out where Beckett Circle were to strike next. Maybe even get a few names and faces with evidence that they were in charge of the operation.

"Ok. Where are we going?"

"Chechnya," Alexei sighed, "We need to get over the border. There's a way of doing it, I've done it before. You'll get more of the details when you meet with Safin. So, what do you think?"

"Yes. We'll do it."

"Are you sure Kai will want to?"

"Kai was talking about wanting something else to do," Alex lied, "He'll be up for it."

"Good."

Alexei smiled, and Alex had a funny feeling in his stomach, "Great. I'll mention you to Safin. If it definitely goes ahead, it'll be next week. You'll get debriefed over the next few days. Anyway, I'd better be off. I need to go and crawl back into bed. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright now."

"Good. Don't ever drink Alex, it's evil stuff."

"Ok. Bye Alexei," Alex chuckled, as the Senior Lieutenant shuffled away in hangover-pain.

When the front door shut behind him, Alex realised what the feeling was.

Guilt.

He was becoming friends with people Beckett Circle, and yet he was here to bring it down. He knew they did things that were way outside the law, and hardly morally sound. But the Beckett Circle was all they had, everything they had put their lives to for so long, and Alex out to destroy it.

On the other hand, he took comfort in the fact that this new job may mean the mission would soon be over. And then, if Kai was keeping his word, he would find out something about his family.

On another, rather more important hand, there was Kai brooding away in their bedroom. Alex was bursting with questions about Nikolai and what the hell had to do with Kai. And what had happened to this Tom?

"Kai?"

Kai was holding a pillow over his head, his face hidden in the mattress. He was stretched out as though he had fallen there, and his back rose steadily with heavy breaths.

"Kai?"

Kai pulled the pillow off his head and rolled over. He was squinting from the sudden change in light, his hair was on end as though it had exploded on his head.

"Sorry Alex. I didn't hear you."

"You had a pillow on your head."

"Yeah, well, I just needed some quiet and it obviously worked."

Alex sat cross legged on the bed next to him and let out a long sigh, "Are you Ok?"

"I'm fine. Sorry."

"Kai, who is Nikolai?"

"I told you. Leader of the Black Coats. And a bastard."

"Yes, I know that. But how do you know him?"

Kai appeared to be thinking for a moment. After a minute or two, he sat up and looked Alex in the eye, "I'll tell you. But promise not to...not to...."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just don't...don't judge me,"

"Just you?"

"Well, it's bad enough that I know the guy, never mind that I used to..._associate_ with the guy."

"Ok," Alex shrugged.

Kai took a moment to stare vaguely up at the ceiling, trying to find the words.

"Nikolai offered me a job. There was a...let's say 'extended period' in my life when I was homeless. Tom was a spy for the SRV. He was kidnapped when I was thirteen. And I was homeless and living here in Moscow because this was where Tom was kidnapped and I felt like if I hung around long enough they would bring him back well...that's how I know Nikolai. He offered me a job, to help me pay for food and stuff."

Alex would have liked to pretend that the open-mouthed silence was planned to probe Kai into telling him more, but the truth was he was pretty stunned.

"He promised to pay me a lot of money, and I couldn't really say no. Tom had been gone for a six months then, there was no sign of him yet, and living on the streets wasn't pretty. And all I had to do was stand around in a room for a couple of hours whilst he entertained some friends."

"What do you mean 'stand around'?" Alex asked suspiciously, finding his tongue.

"Well, you know...look pretty. I didn't have to _do _anything, just look pretty for his guests. Stand around in very little clothes and hand out drinks. Stuff like that."

"So how can you know him that well?"

"That wasn't the only job. I had a string of similar ones afterwards, then I was a... I don't know what you'd call it. Rent boy, prostitute? Whatever you want to call it. I wasn't hanging around on the street corner, I had a...pimp, so to speak. He met me at one of Nikolai's parties said I would get a lot of money for my...services. Since being gay in Russia isn't exactly embraced by society with open arms, you can get a lot of money from frustrated men who don't feel they can be gay anywhere but alone in the bedroom. So for about a year, that was what I was."

Alex opened his mouth again but Kai held up a hand, "Wait. Let me finish, Alex. I was getting quite well paid, and the guy I was working for was great, he didn't give me to anyone too weird. He knew I was only fourteen and that I hadn't done this before. Anyway, not long later, Nikolai looked me up again. He said I shouldn't be doing that kind of job and that I should come work with him. He invited me to live with him; free board and food, all the clothes and things I could ever want. In return, I had to be his personal 'boy'. I was his. I wasn't getting paid but I was able to live in his amazing apartment, I was fed, I was warm, I got to have anything I wanted. And at the time, the choice between living and having sex with him seemed to have a much better return than living on the streets and eking out a living having sex with complete strangers."

Kai looked up from the bed sheets which he was worrying through his hands. He fixed his eyes on a point somewhere in the distance, "So...that's how I know Nikolai. I ran away, eventually. They found Tom. I went back to living with him. Tom died. I got caught up with the SRV. And I was back to living on my own. I thought....I thought Nikolai was dead. I had heard he had been shot. So I felt safe. It's kind of difficult to feel safe with him around again.

Just don't judge me, Alex. I was stupid, but at the time I really thought what I was doing was my only option. I'm just glad I got away from Nikolai quickly enough before he really hurt me. I ditched not long after he forced me to have the tattoo."

He rubbed absently at his hip as he said this, "I'm trying to save up to get it removed, but it's bloody expensive. Anyway. I know the last thing you need right now is to hear me go on and on about my sob story. But...that's it. That's how I know Nikolai. I could have told you a much less explicit version of that story, but it would have been a lie and I wanted you to know."

Alex's throat had gone dry, but he managed: "Why?"

Kai shrugged, "You wanted to know."

"Ok," was all Alex could think of saying.

"And...well I haven't really told anyone before and I think that it's probably because I've never met anyone that I wanted to really share that pathetic part of my life with."

He let himself sink back onto the bed a little.

"Thank you," he said, after a short pause, "For telling me."

Kai shrugged again. He hadn't look Alex in the eye for a while, in fact he seemed to be actively avoiding raising his head.

"Kai?"

"Hm?"

Alex pushed himself onto all fours and crawled across the tiny bed space between them, settling himself down flush next to Kai. He dropped his knees over Kai's crossed legs, and kissed him gently on the cheek, "It's fine."

"Good," Kai whispered, smiling a little.

"Want to go and see what everyone else is doing?" Alex proposed.

"No. Not in the mood, really. Can we just stay here?"

"Sure."

Kai dragged the sheet from the mattress and pulled it up over them. Alex wrapped his arms around Kai's torso, the warm blanket reaching his chin. They stayed like that for a while, Alex's head resting in the nape of Kai's neck. It wasn't long before the two of them shuffled under the covers and drifted off, wrapped close together to keep the cold at bay.

* * *

Im sorry if this was rubbish. I edited this over and over again, and in the end I just thought ah well, I will put it up and hope it works. I just love this story so much I want to get it right!

Tell me what you think.


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